A Second Chance
by x0x Maddie x0x
Summary: 5 yrs ago, suze went back to new york, leaving jesse behind. When the tragic loss of someone close to her brings her back home, will she get a second chance, or is it really over?
1. Popcorn, a Phone Call, & a Plane Ticket

A/N: Yay, look who finally decided to start another fic! Sorry, but _Another_ is on hiatus until I think of something to write… Well, in the meantime, hope you enjoy this one! It's just a random idea that's been floating around in my head for a while. Thought I'd put it on paper and see how it came out. Been trying to upload it for days, but the site's been down. So anyway, suggestions would be very much appreciated!! This chapter is a short one, but they'll get longer as I get more into the plot, promise!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Meg Cabot! Oh, and I don't own the song ("Then I Did") either. All credit for that goes to Rascal Flatts. And w/o further ado, I present to you…A Second Chance!!

I'm dedicating this fic to my wonderful beta, mcobsessed!! She's so awesome for taking the time to edit my random ideas!

On a more serious note, something happened when I was writing this chapter that made me add a second dedication on this fic. In loving memory of Debbie...

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A Second Chance

Chapter One: Popcorn, a phone call, and a plane ticket

It was nearly midnight when the call came. The phone rang ominously through the quiet dorm, breaking the silence left by my roommate, who'd left nearly an hour ago on her date, leaving me sitting on the couch with only the company of a huge bowl of popcorn and the Friday night movies on ABC. You know, the ones only social rejects like me are home to watch late on a Friday night. That's right. Once again, Suze Simon does not have a date.

It's not that I don't get asked out. I do. Just not by anyone I'd consider saying yes to.

It's just as Madame Zara predicted. There is only one love in my life.

Too bad I screwed that up five years ago.

The gigantic bowl of popcorn on my lap was nearly empty, as were the many containers of Chinese Takeout. So why was it that I still felt an emptiness?

Turning off the television, I walked over and opened the mini-refrigerator, convinced that if I could just eat a little more, the emptiness would go away.

That's when the phone rang.

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"Now boarding rows 11-20," yelled a flight attendant. I handed her my ticket and went in search of my seat.

A14, A15…A16! I sat down and closed my eyes. It was a going to be a long flight, one I'd sat through once already. But that was over five years ago, before… No, I didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to think about him. Not yet.

* * *

_I thought about callin' you when_

_I got off the plane_

_Every time I see this city through_

_The clouds I get that way_

The sudden jolting of the plane woke me from my sleep. There was a _ding_ as the fasten seat belts sign was turned on. "We've begun our descent," said a disembodied voice, voice of the captain. "We will arrive at the Carmel Airport shortly."

Carmel. My home. Sure I hadn't lived there in five years, but it was the only place I could ever consider home. It's like that saying, Home is Where the Heart Is. My heart has been in Carmel since the day I moved there, so long ago. Nonetheless, returning was the most difficult thing I'd ever had to do. Much harder than leaving had been.

I looked out the window and my breath caught in my throat. It was so beautiful. Carmel was always a bright, sunshiny city with few clouds to be seen. Now, through the few whispy clouds, I could just see the city, basked in a golden light from the setting sun. It looked just like I remembered. Just like that time when…

Memories of my past brought tears to my eyes. What was I going to do when I saw him? I couldn't avoid him. He lived in my bedroom for God's sake. But what could I say? There were no words for what I had done.

_Call me crazy for missin' you_

_Like this but I do._

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Plz R&R!! I really need your comments, suggestions, concerns, and even complaints. Seriously, anything helps. And sorry again for the shortness of this chapter. Next one'll be longer. Promise. I already know what I'm gonna write, so I'll put it down on paper and post it as soon as I get just five reviews!! 


	2. The Bad News

A/N: OMG! That was the fastest I have ever recieved 5 reviews. I love you guys so much! I should blackmail you all more often... well, u know what this means: update time!!! I wasn't expecting to post this chapter, but i promised an update so here it is. oh, and for all of you that were confused about the phone call and stuff, i know the first chapter was cryptic, but all will be explained momentarily. Really appreciate your feedback!

Dislcaimer: Do i even have to say it? I own nothing!

Dedications: this chapter is dedicated to CattyCat for being my first reviewer on a brand new story! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! Ok, i've babbled enough. on w/ the story.

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A Second Chance, Chapter 2: The Bad News

I was used to hearing people cry. Back before we'd moved to Carmel, I'd heard my mom cry herself to sleep practically every night. She'd always wanted a daughter she could be proud of. One that was as popular as she'd been, one who had boys calling her day and night. But instead she'd gotten me, Suze the mediator, the strange girl who never seemed to fit in, who had only one real friend, who'd been brought home by the police more than once.

So yeah, tears I could handle.

Just not when they were falling from my own eyes, crawling slowly down my own cheeks.

That was one thing I hadn't prepared for. When my mom had called and asked-no begged- me to come home, I had been prepared for the possibility of her tears when she saw that I was the same girl who'd left five years ago.

I had prepared for the possibility of bad news.

Just, not like this.

I'd been expecting something like the death of some distant relative. Of course my mom would call to let me know and I'd have to fly back home for the funeral. I mean, family is family, whether you only met them once when you were three or if they'd raised you since birth.

That's the sort of tragedy I'd expected my mom to spring on me once I made it back home.

So imagine my shock when I find out that the call wasn't brought about by the death of some relative I'd never heard of, but by the death of someone very close to me. Someone I'd considered my best friend.

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My best friend was dead. Cee Cee, who I'd just talked to on the phone only a few days earlier, was dead. I still couldn't believe it. It just wasn't possible. It didn't make sense at all. 

It was a car accident, my mom told me. She'd been on her way to work at the local newspaper when it'd happened.

It was early that morning, still dark. She'd been heading down Ocean Avenue when a car ran a red light, crashing into and demolishing her little red bug.

Alcohol was thought to have been involved, but the police would never know. Whoever had hit her just kept on driving. Some drunk driver had taken my best friend's life. Whoever it was didn't know the driver of that Volkswagen Beetle. They didn't care that she had a family and friends who cared about her.

They didn't know that she had a best friend who was a mediator and could track them down and make them pay.

I felt so alone when I got into my room, tears still rolling steadily down my cheeks. I dropped my suitcases by the door, not caring that I'd trip over them later. Maybe I'd just never leave my room again.

I collapsed onto my frilly pink bed as a wave of exhaustion enveloped me, threatening to tear me in two.

My best friend was gone. Cee Cee. I'd never see her again, never hear her comforting voice. Never again.

And to think, a couple of hours ago my biggest worry was what I was going to say to Jesse.

Oh my god, Jesse! I'd forgotten all about him. I lifted my face out of the pillow I'd buried it in just long enough to look around the room. I didn't want to have to deal with Jesse yet. Not now. I couldn't handle it.

Fortunately, I was alone.

I lowered my head back into the moist pillow and sobbed.

* * *

I was awakened the next morning by a knock at my door. "Susie," my mom called softly. "Susie, honey, it's nine-thirty. You need to get up." 

When, after a couple of minutes, there was no answer from me, my mom gave up and left. I rolled over on my back, not looking forward to having to face the world yet.

The harsh rays of the unforgiving Carmel sun streamed through the bay window, blinding my puffy red eyes, extra sensitive from crying all night. Fresh tears welled up in them now, threatening to break free.

I turned my face back down into the pillow. It was too soon to get up. Too soon to face people again.

I lay like that for some time, and when I could not put it off any longer, I sat up. and this time I was not greeted by the harsh sunlight streaming in through my window. Because there wasn't any. Sunlight I mean. Someone had pulled the curtains closed over the big bay window.

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**Jesse's POV**

I'd heard Susannah's family talking. She was coming home. It'd been five years since the day she left. What would I say to her when I saw her? "Oh, hello, Susannah, mi Querida. Sorry about your albino friend. Did you have a nice trip?" didn't sound quite right.

Maybe I should just stay away until she leaves again. She wasn't coming home to see me after all. And besides, how could I face her after what happened the last time we saw each other?

But that was five years ago, and the truth was I missed her. I knew I shouldn't. Not after what she'd done. But I couldn't help it. I knew, even before I saw her again, that I still loved her. Nothing could change that.

I wondered briefly if she had found someone in New York, but the thought of it hurt too much. Discarding such unpleasant thoughts, I looked out the bay window, as I'd always done, and watched the sun set.

It was so reliable, the sun. It was the one thing I could always count on in life. Well, not life, but you know what I mean. Every morning it rises and every evening it sets. If I closed my eyes I would still know that the sun would set that evening and rise the next day. Even that night five years ago.

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R&R! 


	3. If You Love Something

**A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to update. I've actually had the chapter written for a couple of days, but I haven't found time to actually type it up. Been working on another fic, "Scrooged." The next update should come more quickly.**

**Disclaimer: NOT MINE!

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A Second Chance: Chapter 3: If You Love Something…

_If you love something, set it free. If it was meant to be, it'll come back to you._

A week. That's got to be a record of some sort. Staying in the same bed for a whole week. And yet, nothing had changed. Everything was exactly the same as it had been when I'd gotten off the plane.

I'd prayed, I'd screamed, and I'd cried. I'd cried a lot. But none of it was helping. Cee Cee was gone and she'd left behind a lot of people who loved her. I thought briefly of her mother, then of Adam, whom she'd married a year after I'd left.

And then I'd thought of Allie. Poor, sweet Allie, who'd only known her mother for three short years, would have to grow up without her. Worse, I thought. She's going to be raised by Adam. What if he forgot to feed her like that gold fish he'd had for less than a week? But Adam loved Allie more than life itself. Maybe more, even, than he'd loved Cee Cee.

I laughed aloud at the thought of Adam raising a child alone. The sound was strange in the silence of my room. Hollow, empty as it bounced off the pink walls, reverberating around the room.

I needed to get out of the house. I needed to do something productive rather than just sit around in my bed for another week.

After a quick shower and half a bottle of concealer to cover the red swollen skin under my eyes, I grabbed my keys and started down the hall to the stairs.

The sound of my mother's voice stopped me dead in my tracks. Though I couldn't make out what she was saying, it was clear that she'd been crying.

Uninvited, a warm tear trickled down my cheek as I went back to my room. Brushing it away quickly, I planned my escape.

I threw open the bay window curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream through once again, brightening the dark room and opened the window.

Carefully, I lifted myself onto the windowseat and then stepped carefully out onto the roof.

I'd come out here tons of times with Jesse. We'd just sat up high on the roof, high enough so that no one could see us (though they wouldn't have been able to see Jesse anyway), and we'd talk. I missed those days.

Cautiously, I walked across the roof to a tree conveniently located right in front of the roof, in easy reach. I climbed down it. Just like old times.

00 After Climbing Down the Tree 00

Sometimes my brain and my body want different things. This was clearly the case as I drove off with the intention of getting coffee and found myself pass the Coffee Clutch and turn down Ocean Avenue.

"It was a car accident," my mom had said. "She was turning onto Ocean Avenue on her way to work when it happened."

As I rounded the corner, I noticed skid marks swerving off the road into a ditch. It was a long way down. I wondered what her last thoughts had been as she tumbled into that dark abyss. Perhaps she'd thought about Adam and Allie…

It was one of those out-of-body experiences all right. I watched as my hands gripped the steering wheel and turned into the parking lot of the Carmel News.

Cee Cee's office.

It wasn't until I'd walked through the door that I realized I had no idea where Cee Cee's office was. The Carmel News Headquarters was a large place.

"I'm looking for Mrs. Webb's office," I told a secretary at the front desk. "I mean, Mrs. McTavish?"

The secretary looked at me sadly. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sugar," she said, "but Ms. Cee Cee was in an accident and-"

"I know," I said, cutting her off. I couldn't stand to hear it again. "She was a good friend of mine." The secretary looked at me sympathetically. "Can you point me in the direction of her office, please?" I asked again.

"Down the hall, last door on your right," she said, pointing down a long hallway.

"Thank you."

Cee Cee's office was just as I would have imagined. Neat, organized. Everything was in its rightful place.

The office door opened behind me and I turned around, wondering who else had come to say goodbye to Cee Cee.

"Suze!" I was practically tackled as a ghost hugged me, squeezing me tight. Finally, she let me go.

"Cee Cee?" I asked, my voice quivering.

She laughed. "Who were you expecting, the Easter Bunny? You are, after all, in _my_ office, Suze."

I just stared at her.

"I'm really glad you came to visit and all, Suze, but I do have to work. Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I can probably get tomorrow off and we can spend the day together and we can-"

"Cee!"

"What?"

"I-You-He-"

She raised her eyebrows at me. "Cat got your tongue?"

"I-"

"Omygosh, you would not _believe_ the week I've been having. I feel like I'm invisible. No one has been paying any attention to me at all. And I think someone in the office died. I asked who, but as I said before, no one is listening to me."

"Cee." She stopped talking. "Sit down." She did. "You know what I told you before? About how I can see ghosts?" She nodded.

"Is there one here? Omygosh, are Adam and Allie okay? If anything ever happened to them, I don't know what I'd do. I'd probably-"

"Die?" I finished for her. She nodded. "Cee, Adam and Allie are fine." I considered this statement and added, "They're alive and healthy."

"Well, then, what's the problem?"

"Cee Cee," I said. "It's you."

"Me? What about me? I'm fine, Suze!"

"Cee, you were in an accident." I paused, unsure of how best to say this. "Cee, you died."

I don't know what sort of reaction I was expecting from Cee Cee, but it wasn't the one she gave. As soon as I told her the news, she burst out laughing.

"Omygod," she said, before bursting into another ift of hysterical giggling. "You guys-are so-funny!!! I can't believe this. How did you get everyone to go along with it?"

"Go along with what, Cee?"

"This prank you've got going. This Cee-died-everyone-morn-and-pretend-you-can't-see-her prank! You're good, Simon!"

"Cee-" But I was cut off by more laughter. "CEE CEE WEBB-MCTAVISH!" I yelled.

"What?"

I sighed and took out a compact from my purse. "Here," I said, shoving it into her hand. "Look at yourself."

"Ahh!" she screamed when she saw her reflection. "How'd you it to do that? Make it look all glowy and ghost-like?"

"Cee Cee, you _are_ a ghost!"

Oops. Perhaps that sounded a little insensitive…

I must have yelled that a little too loudly because one of Cee's coworkers opened the door.

"Are you okay, Miss?"

"Fine, thank you."

She looked around the seemingly empty room. "Who are you talking to?"

"No one," I said at the same time as Cee Cee said, "Me, of course."

The woman looked skeptical, but she closed the office door behind her as she left. She probably thought I was a lunatic. Maybe I was.

Then I had an idea. "Come on, Cee," I said, grabbing her hand. I led her to the office door. "Put your hand on the door."

"Um, Suze? Are you okay?"

"Just do it."

She did and, just as I knew it would, her hand went through the door.

She screamed. "How?"

"Cee, you're not made of matter anymore. You're a ghost."

She seemed to hesitate.

"Cee, what more proof do you need?"

"I-You-He-I-"

"Cat got your tongue?"

She glared at me. "Thanks, Simon. That's real sensitive of you."

"Aw, Cee. I'm sorry."

"How'd it happen?" she asked.

I told her.

"Cee, this is important. I need to find out why you're still here. Do you have any unfinished business, anything important left unsaid?"

She shook her head.

"Cee, I need you to _think_! Please."

She did. A minute later she still couldn't think of any reason she wouldn't have moved on to-well, wherever it is people go in their afterlife…if there is an afterlife.

This was not going to be easy.

00 3 days later 00

"Stop following me!"

"But, Suze-"

"Look, Cee, I really miss you and all, but you've been practically stepping on my heels for three days!"

"But I've got nowhere else to go. I don't know _how_ to be dead," she whined.

Whoa. Cee Cee does _not_ whine.

"Cee, I'm sorry. I just need a little breathing room. I know someone who can explain things to you better than I can."

I didn't want to do this. I didn't even know if he would come. He wasn't a dog. I couldn't expect him to come just because I had called. But he had every other time I'd called him. It was worth a shot.

_JESSE!!!!_ I thought as loudly as I could. If that even makes sense…I pretty much yelled his name in my own head…ya, that doesn't make sense.

Anyway, it worked. A figure shimmered in front of me as he materialized.

And there he was. After all these years.

"Susannah," he said. It was only my name, but the sound of him saying it made my heart beat faster and something rise in my stomach. I felt as if I would melt.

"Hi, Jesse." I tried to keep my voice even, my tone neutral, but I could hear my voice waver a little as I said his name. I couldn't look him in the eye.

"Ahem," Cee Cee cleared her throat loudly, bringing me back from Jesseland to reality.

"Um, you remember Cee Cee?" I asked him. He had met her before, when she'd burst into my room that day to make campaign posters when I was running for Student Counsil president.

"How could I forget? How do you do, Ms. Cee Cee?"

Um, Ms. Cee Cee? I forgot how strange it sounded to hear Jesse speak. He was so proper. It sounded strange to someone who had not grown up in the nineteenth century.

"Fine. I'm fine." She studied him for a moment. "So you're Jesse." It wasn't a question, but he nodded anyway. He looked at me, as if considering the meaning of my telling Cee Cee about him. Could it mean I still loved him? I don't know…it might.

Cee Cee held out her hand to Jesse. "Nice to finally meet you." Jesse shook her hand.

"Um," I said. Way to go, Suze. You see the love of your life again after five years and all you have to say for yourself is 'um'? "I was hoping, I mean if you don't mind, that maybe you would, you know, show Cee Cee the ropes? I mean, she's still new to this ghost stuff and you-"

"-have been dead for 150 years," he finished for me. "I know, Susannah."

Great, first 'um', now I insult the guy? What was wrong with me?

"Sorry."

"I'd be happy to show Ms. Cee Cee the finer points of spectral-" he looked at the confused expression on my face. "I'll show her how to be dead," he said, dumbing it down for me. Aw great, Suze. Now he thinks you're an idiot. You really know how to make an impression, don't you. Why am I talking to myself?

"Susie honey?" my mom called up the stairs.

"Yeah?" Jesse rolled his eyes. "I mean, yes, Mother?"

"We're going soon!"

"Coming, Mom!" I turned to Cee Cee and Jesse. "Well, I've got to go. Take care of her," I added, looking at Jesse.

"I will, Que-Susannah."

Did he just-? No, it couldn't be. But it was. I hadn't imagined that. Jesse had almost called me Querida.

I floated down the stairs in a cloud of sheer bliss.

But maybe it was just out of habit, not love, said a voice in my head. Don't listen to the voices, Suze. Don't listen!

I sighed. It had been a long day.

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**R&R!**


	4. Ghost Lessons

**A/N: **OMG it's an update!!! Finally right? Sorry I took so long. Thanks for the reviews, everyone. :D Here's Chapter 4. I put it in Jesse's POV for you guys. Hope you like it. :)

And since it has been so long since my last update, I'm going to summarize what's happened so far in "A Second Chance."

Chapter 1:

Suze is in her apartment and she gets a mysterious phone call. She's on the next plane home to Carmel, CA.

Chapter 2:

Cee Cee is dead. Yes, dead. I'm sooooo sorry. I love her, too. It was a car accident. Cee Cee was on her way to work when someone (probably a drunk) ran a redlight. She swerved and fell into a ditch. Anyway, in this chapter, basically Suze finds out her best friend is dead and grieves. She refuses to leave her room and thinks life will never be the same.

Chapter 3:

Suze finally decides to get out of bed. She sneaks out of the house and drives to the scene of the accident. Eventually, she finds herself in Cee Cee's office, where she meets (dun dun dun) Cee Cee's ghost. Cee Cee is unaware that she has died. After Suze breaks the news to her, she calls Jesse (gulp) in the hope that he might show her the finer points of being...well, dead.

Hopefully that helped some. And without further ado, I present do you:

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_A Second Chance_

_Chapter 4: Ghost Lessons_

**Jesse's P.O.V. **

"Lesson number one," I said. "Technically, we no longer exist, so we don't need to continue the life-sustaining traditions of the living."

"Wha'dya mean?" Cee Cee answered, her words slurred by the spaghetti spilling out of her mouth.

I sighed and took the container of noodles from her. "You don't need this," I clarified, putting it back into that kitchen appliance that Susannah had called a refrigerator. "And you don't need to breathe either," I added, hearing her uneven breaths.

I heard a loud _gulp_ as the noodles hanging out of her mouth disappeared. Then, the heavy breathing of Susannah's best friend ceased in response to the words that had just come out of my mouth. She was holding her breath. I chuckled. She reminded me so much of Susannah, the way she always had to test everything I said, as if she didn't believe it was true.

Lately, I'd been thinking about Susannah a lot. I missed her. I missed her smile and her jokes and the way she never seemed to understand the words coming out of my mouth. I missed how she snored quietly in her sleep and the smell of her strawberry shampoo. I even found myself missing her dangerous adventures in the middle of the night and having to go after her.

But I found that what I missed most of all was something even simpler. I missed the sound of her lips forming my name. It was only two syllables; hardly something I thought I would miss. But it felt like I couldn't exist without those two syllables. I mean, I guess technically I don't exist. I haven't for over a century and a half—Isn't that what I was just telling Cee Cee? But when Susannah said my name, I felt like I was alive again.

I smirked at Cee Cee, who was sitting at a chair in Susannah's kitchen, looking incredulously back at me, finding that indeed she didn't need to breathe. Had it been this difficult for me? I couldn't remember. It'd been too many years. I couldn't even remember my own death. Suddenly, I wanted to know if Cee Cee could recall hers.

"Cee Cee, do you remember how you died?" I asked her quietly.

"I was driving," she said carefully, "and apparently someone ran a red light and I swerved off the road. That's what Suze said. Why?"

I shook my head. "No, I mean do _you _remember it? Can you remember what you were thinking at the time, or what it felt like?"

For a moment, she was quiet, and a deep crease formed in the middle of her forehead, as if she was thinking really hard about the question. Finally, after a few seconds of silence, she answered. "I remember a light," she said. "It was really bright, and it felt like if I could just reach it, everything would be alright. I think I was walking towards it, but then something made me look back. There was a body in a ditch by the side of the road. I had to help her. But when I ran over to the body-" She paused here, and I could see tears beginning to form in her eyes. "There was a lot of blood, and I tried to stop it, but-but…" She trailed off. "Then the light disappeared," she added.

"Do you know who it was?" I asked.

"I think it was me."

I sat in the chair next to Cee Cee and put my arm around her gently. "I don't remember anything," I told her. "Just the gleam in his eyes. I imagine Susannah told you how I died?"

She nodded slowly. We sat there quietly for some time, reflecting on our pasts. I was so absorbed in thought, I didn't even notice when Susannah came in and took the seat next to me.

"Jesse?" she said.

My name. It sounded so right coming from her lips.

"Yes, Susannah?" I wondered briefly what she was doing up. It was early in the morning, and everyone else had gone to sleep long ago.

I don't know what I was expecting her to say. Perhaps something along the lines of 'I still love you, Jesse, and I'm sorry,' would have been nice. But it seemed that line of thought was far from her mind at the moment.

"How're the ghost lessons going?"

"The what?" I asked, startled.

"You know, the ghost lessons. Aren't you supposed to be teaching Cee Cee how to be—?"

"Dead?" I finished for her. She nodded. "Oh, right. We were just talking about that actually," I half-lied. We had been talking about death, but not really about spectral existence exactly.

I had known what I was going to tell Cee Cee about death, but I couldn't recall it now. All I could think about was Susannah, sitting so close to me. The smell of strawberry shampoo filled my nostrils, and I smiled in spite of myself.

"Uh, Jesse," Cee Cee said expectantly. Oh right. Ghost lessons.

"Okay, well, first of all," I began, "specters—that is, ghosts—" I added for Susannah's benefit, "have a few special…powers I guess you could call them."

The excited look on Cee Cee's face encouraged me to continue.

"You see, ghosts can control certain things through their emotions. Susannah can attest to that. Whenever you get a ghost mad, what happens?"

"Well…Uh…The get pissed off pretty easily. Then they try to…you know, off me."

"Okaaaay." Was that English? I guess neither one of us understands what the other is saying half the time. "Before that."

"Umm…Stuff starts to fly around really fast. They start hurling furniture and stuff at me most of the time."

"Precisely. When ghosts, especially new ghosts who cannot control their powers, get angry, objects around them begin to fly, usually straight for the source of their anger. Usually Susannah." I smirked.

Susannah glared at me, but she didn't deny it. How could she? I'd been there when she'd gotten a ghost angry. Actually, lots of ghosts. Susannah tended to handle things like angry, revenge-seeking ghosts badly.

"Consequently, we need to teach you how to control your emotions. We wouldn't want anything to happen that might put the living in danger."

"And how do we do that?" Cee Cee asked.

"Well, it will be harder for you than for me because…well…you're a woman."

Cue the glare from Suze.

"It's true! Women are more emotional than men. How many times have _I_ thrown statue heads at you, Susannah?" I asked, referring to our first little excursion to the Mission. We were trying to appease Heather, the ghost of a girl who wanted revenge and was willing to do anything to get it. She didn't look too kindly on our attempt to help her, and, well, the head of the first principle's statue had gone flying straight, of course, at Susannah.

"I-uh…" She hesitated. "Okay point taken."

"Okay, let's try an exercise…What would you say if I told you some kid pushed Allie down at school the other day."

"I would—What?! I'm gonna _kill_ that kid!"

With that, Cee Cee started trembling with rage, and next thing I knew, that little box that Susannah used to make food in—I think she called it a micro-something—was lifted three feet in the air and sent spiraling across the room. It was hurled into the opposite wall with a loud crash. Then a cabinet full of pots and pans began to shake, and a block of sharp kitchen knives—why did Susannah's father have to be a cook?—began to rattle ominously. This was going to be more difficult than I'd thought.

Instinctively, I jumped in front of Susannah, intending to shield her from the impending danger. If Cee Cee couldn't control her power, there was no telling where those knives would be hurled. This, of course, was pointless because the knives would pass right through me.

"Cee," Susannah interjected quickly. "Allie's fine. Really. That didn't actually happen. It was just an example. You know, a hypothetical kind of thing."

"Oh." Everything around her suddenly stopped shaking. I picked up my chair, which had fallen over when I'd jumped up, and sat back down in it, embarrassed. "Why didn't you just say so?"

It seemed pointless to mention that I _had_ told her, so I ignored the comment. "Um...Susannah, I think your micro-box-thingy is kind of…broken."

"Ha. Ya think? And it's called a microwave by the way."

That was it. Microwave. I almost can't believe she understood what I was talking about when I said "micro-box-thing," but then again, it is Susannah. Maybe she doesn't understand me when I say things like "specters," but she understood that perfectly. Only Susannah could manage that.

A light came on down the hall, and a moment later, Andy, Suze's step-father, appeared in the doorway. "Hey kiddo, what's—Uh, Suze…What happened to the microwave?"

"Well, you see, Mr. Ackerman," said Cee Cee. "It was my fault, I-"

She cut off mid-sentence when I elbowed her. "He can't hear you," I reminded her.

"Oh yeah."

"Sorry, Andy. I just came down for a midnight snack, and I…um—it wasn't working?" Susannah covered unconvincingly.

"So the logical solution to that problem is to throw it against the wall," Andy said, chuckling. He didn't sound nearly surprised enough for the situation. Then again, it is Susannah. She tended to do strange things like this. I chuckled and she shot me a dirty look. Fortunately, Andy didn't notice. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Yeah…Sorry. Go back to bed. I'll take care of it."

Andy sighed. "Why don't we both just go to bed, and we'll deal with this in the morning?" He glanced at the clock. "It's only three o' clock." He yawned and walked out the door.

"Alright. Good night, Andy."

She walked slowly up the stairs, and Cee Cee began to follow her, yawning as well.

"Cee Cee, where are you going?" I whispered, though, of course, there was no reason to whisper. It's not like anyone besides Cee Cee and Susannah could hear me anyway.

"To bed," she answered. "I'm bushed."

"Cee," Susannah replied, "you don't need to sleep anymore. You're not…alive."

"Oh," she said, obviously upset. "I forgot."

"I'm sorry, Cee. I didn't mean it like that."

"No, it's okay. I understand. Just go up to bed. You must be tired."

"Okay. Good night, Cee. 'Night, Jesse."

I watched her walk up the stairs and waited for the soft sound of her door closing before finally looking away.

"You still love her, don't you?" Cee Cee asked quietly. I'd forgotten she was still here.

"I-umm…" I didn't want to talk about this right now. Not with Susannah's best friend. Not with anyone. "We've got a lot of ground to cover, so let's get started on the next lesson."

"You know, I think she loves you, too, but she's too stubborn to admit it. She never did tell me what happened between you two. Is that why she left?"

I hesitated. I knew whatever I told Cee Cee might very well be repeated to Susannah when I had left the room. Truth be told, my pride wouldn't let me be the one to mention it. Susannah had to do it. "Yes. That's why she left all those years ago."

"What happened?"

"That is up to Susannah to tell you if she wants."

"She won't tell me."

"You're her best friend," I argued.

"She won't tell me," Cee Cee repeated.

"Then, I guess it's better that you not know." Besides, it hurts too much to talk about. When you die, your heart stops beating, but it never stops hurting. Sometimes, I wish it would.

* * *

"You're not concentrating hard enough!"

"I am too! I can't concentrate any harder!"

"Look," I said. "You have to want it more than anything else. It takes a lot of energy. Just take a deep breath and clear your mind."

Cee Cee and I were sitting in Suze's room the next morning, and I was trying, unsuccessfully, to teach Cee Cee how to move objects using telekinesis. So far, that wasn't going too well.

"Watch. I'll do it."

Susannah's bed floated effortlessly in the air for a moment before I put it down gently.

"I can't do it!" Cee Cee declared.

I sighed. "Okay, let's start on something smaller. Try moving this." I put my handkerchief on the floor in front of Cee Cee.

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. "Is it working?"

"No."

"How 'bout now?"

"No."

Cee Cee opened her eyes. "Oh for heaven's sake! This is hopeless!"

"Maybe we should take a break," I suggested.

"I agree," she said and began to walk to the door. "I'm going to find Suze."

"You know, you could just—forget it. I'll teach you how to materialize later. Suze is downstairs watching television by the way."

"How do you—? Never mind."

Cee Cee walked out the door and out of sight, leaving me alone in Susannah's room.

The room was just as she had left it five years ago. It was still frilly and still very pink. It was obvious Susannah was not the one who decorated this room. She would never have chosen pink frilly things. It was her mother who was responsible for the ornamentation. She had wanted a daughter whose personality was more like this room. I couldn't imagine anyone less like this person than Susannah. I also couldn't think of anyone more perfect.

I sat on the frilly pink window seat, as I had so many times before, and watched the sun rise, as it had so many times before. As a ghost, I couldn't feel the warmth of its rays on my skin, but watching the sun always made me feel like things were right. They were just as they had always been and nothing could change that. It was the one thing I could count on.


	5. Bring You Down

**A/N: Update time!! I almost didn't update because I only got 2 reviews on the last chapter. 2 reviews! Does that mean no one liked it? Because if you didn't like it, that's fine. But please tell me. This time, I'm not updating until I get at least 5 reviews.**

**Oh, and this chapter is un-betaed. But I read it over a few times, so hopefully I caught all the typos and the parts that didn't make sense, etc.**

**BTW, this chapter is back in Suze's point of view.**

* * *

_A Second Chance_

_Chapter 5: Bring You Down_

**Suze's P.O.V.**

_Last night I had a revelation_

_Somehow I have to make you pay_

_It's all about manipulation_

_And what it takes to get my way_

_I don't believe in soft solutions_

_No one makes a fool of me_

_Without receiving retribution_

_No one hurts me and goes free_

I couldn't let him get away with it. It wasn't right what he did. I mean, what kind of person could have just left her there to die like that? Nobody with a conscience, that's for sure. It was too bad he didn't know she had a friend who could bring him down. Too bad for him anyway.

Last night, I had a dream. Actually, it was more of a nightmare really. One of those nightmares where you know you're sleeping, but you just can't wake up, no matter how much you want to. And when you finally do wake up, you're covered in sweat and the covers have been kicked off the bed. Yeah, it was definitely not a dream. Anyway, in my nightmare, the driver who had taken my best friend's life was laughing. Just laughing. Nothing too malicious there. But it was that evil laugh. The kind you always hear the villains make as they reveal their master plans to the superhero. Then, of course, the superhero breaks free from whatever contraption the villain has captured them in, and…well, bye-bye villain. At least, that's what happened in every comic book I have ever read.

I couldn't see his face in the dream, but I felt like I somehow knew the killer. He was tall and muscular, and you could tell from his voice that he wasn't someone people usually messed with. But I wasn't scared. He was laughing that aforementioned evil laugh, and somehow I knew that he was laughing about what he had done to Cee Cee. The realization made my blood boil, and when I woke up, I found my pillow had been beaten so hard, all the feathers had broken loose and were now strewn about the room. Good thing I'm not a neat-freak.

Upon waking, I knew two things: One, I would do anything to find the man in my dream—the man who dared to kill my best friend and then laugh about it with his buddies— and make him pay, and two, when I found him, one of us would never see the light of day again—because if Cee Cee would never get another chance at life, neither should her killer. Maybe this is just my twisted sense of justice—an eye for an eye, an ear for an ear, a life for a life, a toe for a…well, you get the idea—but it made perfect sense to me.

_I'll play on your fears, I'll leave you in tears_

_You'll never be the same, my friend_

_You're walking a line, it's a matter of time_

_You'll never rest easy again_

The plan was perfect, foolproof. Well…almost. My plan for revenge presented one very big—and when I say big, I mean huge, gigantic, enormous—problem. And without first solving this problem, I couldn't avenge Cee Cee. The problem was finding him. I didn't even know who he was, but I knew there had to be a way to find him. I mean, where there's a will there's a way, right? But how?

Sometimes the answer to a problem like this one just comes out of nowhere. Even from something as simple as a phone call from an old friend. It seemed a miracle that he happened to call just then. Or perhaps he somehow read my mind…I wouldn't put it past him. And, okay, so he wasn't really a "friend." More like an archenemy actually…but I could put our past behind us if he really could help me with this dilemma. And I knew he could. He had his ways, whether good or bad, legal or…well, not so legal—usually the latter. I just couldn't tell Jesse my plan. He'd kill me—figuratively speaking, of course, because Jesse was too much of a gentleman to kill anyone, especially a girl (Besides, if he did actually kill me, I'd probably just come back to haunt him)—if he ever found out.

I picked up the phone on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Suzie," said the familiar cold voice on the other line. Hearing his voice after all these years made my blood run cold. Normally, I would have corrected him—only my mom can call me Suzie and get away with it—but this time, I let it slide. I did, after all, need his help. And I've found that groveling works better when you just let the other person get their way.

"Oh, hey, Paul," I said more casually than I felt. Maybe a little too casually.

"You okay, Suze?" he asked, noticing my nonchalant manner.

"Of course. But Paul," I said, "I need a favor."

_I've got the power to bring you down_

_I've heard it said, to err is human_

_It's forgiveness that's divine_

_I thought about forgiving you, but_

_I want revenge, I want what's mine_

_I think it's time to settle scores now_

_It's time to set the record straight_

_You'll know it's coming, you won't know how_

_Or when, you'll have to watch and wait_

00 A few weeks later 00

I didn't tell him to come. In fact, I specifically remember begging him not to. Yes, begging. Me. I know, I've stooped far too low. I mean, can you even picture me, on my knees, begging Paul Slater to stay away? Didn't think so. But I did. I guess that just goes to show that there is a price everyone is willing to pay. I would sacrifice my pride for Cee Cee. She is, after all, my best friend, and best friends will do anything for each other…I just hope she doesn't find out.

But Paul isn't one to take orders—especially not from me—and so a few weeks after our first phone call, he showed up at my door.

"PAUL!" I shouted in horror upon opening the front door and finding him standing there. Immediately, I looked over my shoulder for Jesse, who, thankfully, wasn't there. He was teaching Cee to materialize, and she had—finally—gotten it. Well…she materialized anyway. Just not to the kitchen like they were practicing. So Jesse was off looking for her somewhere, which meant I had the house to myself (my mom and Andy having gone off to work and my three stepbrothers—Sleepy, Dopey, and Doc—having all moved out of the house in my absence).

Paul smirked at the look of horror on my face and walked coolly past me and into the house. "What's wrong, Susie? Aren't you glad to see me after all these years?" he asked, feigning innocence—ha ha Paul innocent, yeah right.

_I'll play on your fears, I'll leave you in tears_

_You'll never be the same, my friend_

_You're walking a line, it's a matter of time_

_You'll never rest easy again_

_I've got the power to bring you down_

"Paul, what are you doing here?"

"What, a guy can't visit an old friend?"

"Um…no," I answered. There was no way Paul—Paul Slater—would come to "visit" me without a hidden agenda. No doubt, he was here to stir up trouble.

"Come on, Suze. Don't be like that," he said, a look of mock hurt on his face. "If I remember correctly, you didn't seem too upset to see me last time." His eyebrows went up, as if suggesting something.

Even after all these years and everything I'd been through on account of Paul Slater, it was still hard to breathe around him. He had only gotten more good-looking with age. And I don't say this because I harbor secret feelings for the guy. No, I actually hate his guts. I wouldn't even have spoken to him if I hadn't really needed his help. And last time…last time had been a mistake. Besides, it had been five years ago. I was no longer the girl I had been when I left all those years ago. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I can actually learn from my mistakes.

"What do you want, Paul?" I said through gritted teeth.

"Well," he said, and I could tell that whatever came out of his mouth next was not going to be good for me. "If I'm going to help you find some guy you've never seen and you don't know his name or what he looks like or how to find him," he paused to let this sink in, "then I'm going to expect something in return."

I knew it. I knew it couldn't be good, and it wasn't. What could Paul Slater possibly want from me anyway?

And then he told me.

_You know, it feels intoxicating_

_To be intimidating_

_It's invigorating_

_To see you shaking_

_I've got the power to bring you down_

_You know something, you see it coming, _

_You know I will stop at nothing

* * *

_**R&R. Remember, no update until I get 5 reviews. :)**


	6. Stormy Weather

**A/N: Thanks for reviewing, everybody!! I replied to the reviewers who were signed in. However, I could not reply to Werty544 and Ugiee, so I'll do that now. Oh, and if you were having trouble reviewing the last chapter (should just be McObsessed and Querida101), I'm really sorry. It probably thought you'd already reviewed because you two were the only ones to review chapter 4 (thank you for that). I had an authors note somewhere in there, and I deleted it, so it moved your reviews up. That's kind of confusing, but anyway, you should be able to review this one. If something weird happens like this again (which I'm really hoping it won't), feel free to PM me.**

**Werty544: Thanks so much for all of your reviews. I really appreciate them. Do you really think I write like Meg Cabot? She's like my idol!! Thanks so much! I'm really glad you like this story, and I hope I can keep it up, whatever it is that you like so much. :D**

**Ugiee: I'd just like to say thank you for the review. So glad you think my story is 'AMAZING'!! Could you please tell me what you like about it so I can keep doing it? I appreciate constructive criticism. :D Again, thanks for the review!! Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

_A Second Chance_

_Chapter 6: Stormy Weather_

**Suze's P.O.V.**

I was accustomed to waking up to the sun coming through my window. It's just something you get used to when you live in California. Even in the wintertime, it was always bright and sunny and warm here.

But not today. No, today I woke up to a loud crack of thunder that shook the whole house. My first thought was Oh no!! Earthquake! But, of course, an earthquake usually doesn't cause it to pour down rain from heavy, dark clouds. Oh, and an earthquake doesn't usually include such things as thunder and lightning either.

Suddenly I remembered that I'd left my window open last night to let in the cool night air. My big bay window. Open. In the pouring rain. Not good. So I scrambled quickly out of bed—tripping over my own feet as I did so—and ran to the window. I shut it quickly before going to adjoining bathroom for a towel—or ten.

As I placed the towels on the sopping wet window seat, I glanced out the window. The rain was coming down in buckets. I could hardly see our neighbor's house just across the street. Through the sheets of rain pouring down, I could just make out the street. It was, of course, flooded. I ran downstairs to the front door for a better look.

After flinging open the front door, I could clearly see the street in front of our house. There were at least 3 inches of moving water. It was moving fast, kind of like little rapids on the river that was our street. No way I was going to be able to go anywhere today. The car would be swept away before I was even out of the driveway.

Another loud clap of thunder startled me and I slammed the door shut. "Some storm, huh?" said a voice from behind me. I turned to see Jesse standing there, looking out a window at the storm. "Hasn't been a storm like this since…Well, a long time."

Well, I guess he would know. He'd been here for over a century and a half. "Yeah. I guess we're stuck inside for the day," I said, pointing out the obvious. Although, Jesse was a ghost, so he could really go anywhere he wanted. Come to think of it, I never really figured out where he disappeared to all those times when we'd had a fight or whatever. "Well, I'm stuck here, anyway," I amended. The silence following my reply was the loudest I'd ever endured—and not just because of the thunder and the rain pounding on the windows and doors—so I tried to make conversation. "So where did you find Cee Cee yesterday?" I asked, genuinely curious. They'd been gone for a long time, and I couldn't help but wonder where.

"At her house, of course," he said, as if it were that obvious. Well, I guess in a way it was. I mean, if Cee Cee were to go anywhere, it'd be home. I wondered how Adam and Allie were doing. Jesse must have somehow sensed this—as he always does—because he added, "They're doing well. Err…better anyway. As well as can be expected."

"I'll bet Cee Cee was happy to see them at least."

He hesitated for a moment and then didn't say anything.

"Wait. Where is Cee Cee? I haven't seen her since yesterday morning."

"Well, you see, Cee Cee…She didn't take it too well, seeing Adam and Allie and not being able to talk to them. She uh…she didn't want to come back with me."

"Oh," I said sadly. Poor Cee Cee. Family was so important to her and now it was as if she'd lost them forever. Of course she'd want to stay as close to them as possible. Even if they couldn't see her.

Wait. If Cee Cee was gone…"Did Mom and Andy leave?" I ask.

"They went to work this morning before the storm came."

So it was just the two of us. Alone. Five years ago, this would have been good news, but now…now it was just awkward.

"I'm starved," I announced, effectively changing the conversation, as I walked into the kitchen. Jesse followed and watched as I grabbed a bowl and a box of cereal.

"Any plans for today?" he asked as I poured cereal into the bowl.

"Well, I was going to go to the beach, but since it's raining…How 'bout you?"

"Nope. No plans."

"Oh," I said, concentrating very hard on pouring milk into my cereal. "Well, we could watch TV or something," I suggested as I dug a spoon into the bowl.

And that's how, a few minutes later, I ended up sitting on the couch next to Jesse watching TV. Of course, we couldn't decide on what to watch. I wanted to watch cartoons like I always used to as a kid on rainy days, and Jesse wanted to watch the history channel—the horror. Finally, I showed him the error of his ways and convinced him to watch cartoons…Okay I stole the remote and wouldn't give it back. Either way, I don't have to watch the history channel.

So I'm sitting there in my pajamas eating cereal next to Jesse, who looks, as always, perfect. It's so not fair how one person can look so good all the time. Especially while I'm sitting here after having just woken up and not even bothering to brush my hair. Oh well, it's not like Jesse still likes me anyway.

I turned my attention back to the TV screen, where Yogi bear—smarter than the average bear!—was just about to snatch another picnic basket. Unfortunately, we didn't get to see if he actually succeeded for once because the screen went blank and all the lights turned off. Great. Now we've lost power. What was I going to do for fun?

"Susannah?" Jesse asked from right next to me. I couldn't even see him it was so dark. There wasn't even any light streaming in from the windows due to the complete lack of sun outside.

"I'm here," I said and stuck my hand out to touch his shoulder so he'd know where I was.

"Maybe we should light some candles," he suggested.

"Good idea. There're some in the kitchen. Let me grab a flashlight." There was an emergency flashlight in a drawer in the kitchen. The hard part was going to be finding the kitchen in the dark without tripping over anything, a difficult task for a klutz like me. Still, I _almost_ managed. Until my foot struck something hard and, of course, I tripped.

I fell into Jesse, who was walking right in front of me, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the floor, too. Oops. Clumsy me.

"Sorry, Jesse," I said quickly. "I think I tripped over something…" Way to point out the obvious, Suze.

Jesse, under me, laughed. Okay, so it was really obvious. I tend to just kind of babble random things sometimes. Anyway, laughter is contagious, so of course I started laughing, and suddenly we were lying there on the floor laughing hysterically. I'm not sure what we were laughing at exactly. It was all just suddenly so hilarious.

"Susannah," Jesse said after he'd finally stopped laughing.

"Yes, Jesse?" I asked. My heart was pounding in my chest. Jesse. It was just Jesse and I again. Together. Like old times. And we were so close—me being on top of him and all. I was sure he could feel it. My racing heart I mean. How could he not?

"You're still on top of me," he pointed out.

"Oh," I said, brilliant as always. "Sorry," I said and got up, breathless. I stuck out my hand to help him up and he took it—though I don't know how he saw it in the dark. Much as I hate to admit it, the touch sent a spark up my arm and to my heart, which, if possible, started to beat even faster. Suddenly I was glad it was so dark. I was sure I was blushing.

"Candles," he reminded me. Right. Candles. Because the power went out and it's dark. Okay now where was that—

"Flashlight!" I announced, waving it in the air. "Let there be light!" I said, flipping it on. I found some candles and matches in the drawer next to the flashlight, too. We lit them and set them around the kitchen so we could see.

By the glow from the candles—and the flashlight, which I was holding tight even though, with the light of the candles, it was unnecessary (It's not my fault the candles kept going out. Personally, I blame Jesse. You know how when normal people walk through a ghost, they feel that chill? That one cold spot in an otherwise normal room. Well, the small breeze is enough to make a candle go out…I think. Or, you know, it could just be because all the windows are open, allowing the wind—but not the rain, as the windows are sheltered from it by the roof above—to come through, blowing out all the candles.)—I could finally move without tripping over anything. That was a plus. Although, I'm not sure I minded it too much when I fell on top of Jesse…What am I saying? I sound like I'm sixteen again. But I'm not sixteen anymore. I'm twenty-one, and it's been five years since Jesse and I broke up. Five years! I shouldn't be having these inappropriate thoughts.

Jesse—always the gentleman—pulled out a chair for me. I sat, and he took the chair next to me. I bit my lip nervously. There were no distractions now. No television, no more candles to light. We were going to have to talk sometime. Apparently, now was that sometime because Jesse turned toward me just then. My breath caught in my throat. He looked exactly the way he had five years ago—ghosts can't really change much in appearance—but to me, he looked even better. After all that time apart, he was now so close. I thought about how easy it would be to close the small distance between our lips and continue where we'd left off. I couldn't stop staring at those lips. I couldn't help it. My mind would not let my body in on the fact that it was not five years ago anymore.

"Susannah," Jesse said seriously. Then he said the four most horrible words in the English language. "We need to talk." It seemed as though each word was a stab to the heart. "We" stab "need" stab "to" stab "talk" stab.

"Oh," I said, my heart in pieces. I knew it was coming, but that didn't make this conversation any easier. "Jesse," I began. Then I stopped. I didn't know what to say. There were no words to describe how I felt. How sorry I was for what had happened.

Fortunately, I was saved from having to find the words that didn't exist. Saved by the bell—literally. The door bell rang at exactly that moment, and, glad for the distraction, I bolted up from my chair, nearly sending it crashing to the floor in the process, and ran to the door, saying hastily, "I'd better get that," to Jesse as I did so.

I flung open the door, ready to jump into the arms of whoever it was who'd saved me from possibly the worst conversation of my life. Until I saw whom that person was. "Paul," I said, stunned, and a bolt of lightning cut through the dark sky behind him. It was followed by a crash of thunder that shook the entire house, threatening to break it in half.

"Slater," Jesse growled from behind me. Uh oh. This was not going to be good. I've changed my mind. I think I'd rather have the Susannah We Need To Talk conversation with Jesse…It might be easier than the Susannah Why Is Slater At Your Door? conversation.

I couldn't say a word. It was like my mouth had been glued shut. Or perhaps that last clap of thunder had shaken my voice box so much that I was now mute. I'd have to go around pretending to lasso people and tie them up like we always saw those mimes in the circus do. I just hope they wouldn't lock me in a small box…that always looked uncomfortable.

But it seemed I didn't need to say anything. It was like they weren't even aware I was standing there with them. Like I was invisible as well as mute. That's worse than Helen Keller! I wonder if someone who was invisible and mute could actually get around in the world. Oh yeah. Ghosts. Invisible and mute to the living…well, normally. I, of course, am the exception to that rule. Is this how Cee Cee has been feeling lately? Poor Cee Cee…

Jesse and Paul seemed to be having some sort of stare-down. It was like in one of those old western movies where the cowboys face each other down and then they turn and walk three steps and…wow. Now I'm picturing Jesse and Paul dressed as cowboys—though Jesse, in his 19th century clothing, already sort of looks like one, if you close one eye and squint with the other while tilting your head slightly to the right... Seriously, there is something wrong with me.

Paul said something then that I didn't catch. Perhaps because it wasn't in English. I knew I should have taken Spanish! Anyway, whatever it was he said was obviously not a compliment since Jesse took a step toward Paul, his fists clenched. Normally, Jesse wasn't a very violent person…Well, with the exception of that time when he broke Paul's nose. But Paul had deserved it.

I didn't want to have to watch that scene unfold in front of me again. And this time, I knew, it would be much worse.

"Jesse," I said in a warning voice, grabbing him by the shoulders in an attempt—though I knew it was futile since he was much stronger than I was—to hold him back. Of course, he just brushed me away, as if I were nothing but a feather. Well, that was to be expected, considering what had happened the last time he'd seen Paul.

So, all things considered, it was understandable that the next thing Jesse would do was to break Paul's nose…again. It made a gross crunching sound as Jesse's fist slammed into it, and blood began to gush out. Ew.

"Are you alright?" I asked. The question was not directed at Paul, as it was all his fault if you think about it, but to Jesse, who was now holding his hand in pain. But he was, after all, a ghost, so a minute later the pain was gone and there was not so much as a bruise.

Paul, however, not being a ghost, was not okay. And I knew the bloodstained floor would never be the same either.

Jesse disappeared for a while after that, leaving me to tend to Paul—although, Jesse is the doctor, not me, so I wasn't really sure what I was going to do. I ended up helping Paul to the couch and giving him a wad of paper towels, which he stuck to his nose in an effort to control the bleeding. Without my even thinking of it—after all, I've never had a broken nose (broken fingers, arms, legs, and even a few concussions yes, but never a broken nose)—Paul leaned his head back to let gravity do some of the work for him. I wonder how many times he's had his nose broken. At least two…

I sat down on the chair across from Paul, as far away as possible from him. "So," I said. "You realize this is your fault, right?" Good thing I'm not a doctor. I'd get criticized for my bedside manner constantly if I were. This was probably not the best thing to say to anyone, but especially not someone who'd just gotten their nose broken.

"Thanks, Suze," he said in a sarcastic nasally voice. Very nasally and difficult to understand on account of his nose being well, broken. I tried not to laugh at this, but the way he said it just sounded so funny that I couldn't help it. This earned me a scowl from Paul, who muttered something I couldn't hear—and probably wouldn't have been able to understand anyway—under his breath.

We sat there for a while in silence until finally, Jesse returned, having regained control of his temper. In fact, he looked calm and casual as ever. Except for that glint of anger in his eyes, but I'm sure Paul didn't even notice.

This was, of course, the perfect time for the power to go out again—not. But it did. And once again, we were left in the dark. Fortunately, the candles were still lit in the kitchen, so there was, at least, a little bit of illumination coming from that direction. Paul, however, refused to move, complaining his nose hurt too much—for someone so diabolical, Paul could really be a baby at times. So Jesse and I went to retrieve the candles ourselves.

"Jesse," I whispered when I was sure Paul wouldn't overhear. "I am _so_ sorry." Sorry didn't even begin to cover it, but what else could I say?

He grabbed a couple of candles without a word or so much as a glance in my direction, and began to walk back to the couch. "Jesse," I said again. "Wait." To my surprise, he did—wait that is.

"What, Susannah?" he said coldly. He finally turned to me, but I noticed, even in the dim lighting, that he wouldn't look me in the eye.

"Jesse, it's my fault Paul's here," I confessed. "I mean, I told him not to come, but I did call him." Jesse's dark eyes showed no emotion, but I knew that I had betrayed him. "He's going to help me find…" I couldn't go on. Jesse would never approve of what I was going to do. He wouldn't let me put myself in that kind of danger.

"He's going to help you find Cee Cee's killer," Jesse finished for me in a voice that didn't give away any clue as to what he thought of my plan. It was as if he had always known.

"You knew?" I asked quietly.

He laughed. Not a laugh like Ha Ha, Susannah, You're So Funny. It was more of a sad laugh, as if he were disappointed in me. "Susannah, I know you better than to think you'd just let this man get away," he pointed out. "I just didn't think you'd ask Slater for help." Now betrayal shown clearly in his eyes, and suddenly I wanted to hold him, to tell him I was sorry and that of course he was right.

"Jesse," I breathed. "I'm so sorry. But it was the only way."

He shook his head sadly and walked from the room without another word. I took a deep breath, grabbed a candle in each trembling hand, and followed.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked this extra-long chapter!! Five more reviews gets you a new chapter. :D**


	7. The Nightmare

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. I was on vacation the week before last, and that kept me really busy. I've actually had this chapter written for a few days. I just kept forgetting to type it up...Sorry. Anyway, here it is. It's kind of short, but I'll try to make up for it next time. It may take me a little while to update, as I have tennis tryouts and then a class, and this weekend I've got a tennis tournament and my friend's birthday party...I'll definitely try to update within the next 2 weeks...Who knows, maybe I'll have it done by the end of this week. :)**

**Mentions: I didn't get around to PMing all of you, so I'll just thank you here. :) As you can see, I got a few more than the 5 reviews I asked for. And for that I'd like to say I LOVE YOU GUYS!!! Your reviews really do make a difference. :D**

**iluvedward93: Thanks for the review! Glad you liked the chapter.**

**mcobsessed:P You're mean. :PPPPP jk. ily, my dear beta!**

**Mcd02: Sorry I made you wait so long. Hope it was worth it. Thanks for reviewing!**

**xoxocandyliciousxoxo: js of course. :D i have to agree with you about hating ps. **

**Ashley: Thanks so much for reviewing! I'm glad you liked my last chapter...I just hope I can keep up the quality. I'll try to give you more angst later.**

**Querida101: Thanks for the review, and I'm sorry it didn't let you review the last chapter...lol. Well, I'll count your review as 2. :) **

**Mel: I kinda wish Suze would confess her feelings too...It's hard having them stay mad at each other the whole time when all I really want is for them to kiss and make up. Sigh. Well, hope you like the update!**

**Ugiee: I think I PMed u, but just in case...Thank you sooooooo much!! It's really amazing to me that you think I write like Meg Cabot. She's pretty much my role model, so I take that as a huge compliment!! JS fluff will probably come soon...I hope. I'm dying to write some fluff.**

**bookworm2010: Thank you for reviewing. I really appreciate it. Glad you like my story. I try. :)**

**Ludwina: haha. I updated another for you. :) And yes, I got a bunch more than 5 reviews, which I'm very happy for. :D I've just been busy. I hope the next chapter will come sooner but we'll see...I'll definitely start updating when I get more time. I was reading over some of it and I think you're right...Jesse is a little OOC sometimes...I'll try to fix that. Thanks for reviewing! **

* * *

_A Second Chance_

_Chapter 7: The Nightmare_

**Suze's P.O.V.**

I felt an inexplicable sense of déjà vu as I lay on my bed and reached for the latest copy of _Vogue_. I had just opened the magazine to the contents page and begun to scan it when I was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Sighing, I got up from my comfy warm bed and walked to the door. Doc—I mean David—had been researching something mediator-related for me earlier and said he'd come by if he found anything interesting. A jolt of excitement shot through me then, and I threw the door open, eager to know what he had found.

"That was fast! Did you find…?"

But it wasn't my youngest stepbrother standing in my doorway.

I looked up into those icy blue eyes and my smile vanished, my excitement replaced by fear.

"Paul," I said simply. I felt my jaw drop but I couldn't close it. "Wh—What're you doing here?" He wasn't supposed to be here, in my bedroom. It was just too weird.

He smiled, sending a chill up my spine. "Nice to see you, too, Susie."

As I stood there glaring at him—no one calls me Susie—he seemed to decide that I wasn't about to invite him in, so he simply walked past me into the sanctuary of my bedroom.

I started to close the door behind him and then thought better of it. It'd be better to leave it open so someone could hear my scream if he tried anything.

Leaving the door ajar, I followed Paul deeper into my room. I was glad that it was so clean. No bras hanging on the doorknob or anything embarrassing like that. I guess that's just one of the perks of sharing my bedroom with the ghost of a really good-looking cowboy.

Despite the bra-less doorknobs, I couldn't help but feel a little uneasy as Paul stood there, smiling in amusement at the pink walls and frilly bedspread.

"Paul, what're you doing here," I asked in a voice that was maybe a little bit colder than the situation called for. After all, he hadn't really done anything wrong…yet.

Tearing his eyes away from the alarm clock my mom had bought for me—it had pink feathers and said "Princess" across the face—to focus on me. I knew my hair must have been a mess from lying on the pillow, but I didn't care. I had nothing to prove to Paul Slater.

"I brought you something, Susie," he said innocently, and for the first time I noticed that he was holding a book. He held it up for me to see. The scarlet red cover caught my eye, and I was instantly curious. What could Paul want me to see in this book? Maybe I'd get my mediator research done after all. "I thought you might be interested, but if you're not, I guess I could just…"

He was already walking back towards my open door as he said this last part. I know I should have just let him go, but he was right: I was curious. So I stopped him. "Paul, wait," I said quickly.

He turned towards me, smiling mischievously, and I knew right then that I was making a huge mistake. Was it too late to change my mind?

"And don't call me Susie," I added, trying to get back in control of the situation.

He grinned. "Whatever you say, Suze." He sat on my bed and put the book on his lap, patting the empty space beside him.

I hesitated before cautiously sitting as far away as I could from him on the bed. I knew better than to get too close. He didn't even seem to notice, and I stared at the book in his lap with renewed interest. The red leather cover was worn, making the title nearly impossible to read. Only the words "Ghost" and "the" were completely legible. The author's name was almost completely gone. Only a "Dr." and a curvy letter _S_ survived.

Seeing that he had my full attention, Paul opened the book to a dog-eared page. The print was small, so I had to scoot just a little bit closer towards Paul. Then I peered at the yellowed page he'd turned to in wonder. I thought that the book must be hundreds of years old to be in such a condition. The pages were yellowed and torn, most of the corners bent over.

But when I saw the heading to which Paul was pointing, I forgot all about the apparent age of the book. The yellowed pages and ancient words seemed to disappear and all that was left was the one-word heading.

"Resurrection," I read breathlessly.

I slid closer to Paul and leaned over to get a good look at what was written about the subject, but Paul closed the book quickly. All I could read before the book snapped shut was the first sentence.

_The only way_, it said, _to bring back the dead is to use the Resurrectio incantation. _

"Paul!" I objected angrily, desperately trying to tug the old book away from him. "Let me see."

I looked into his smirking face and realized my mistake. In my determination to uncover the secrets that the book held, I had carelessly moved so close to Paul that our bodies were now touching. I gasped and tried to move away, but Paul grabbed my wrist, saying, "C'mon now, Suze. Don't be like that."

I couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. When I didn't protest, Paul mistakenly decided that I _wanted_ what happened next.

He removed his hand from my wrist and held my face instead. I tried to pull my head back, but his grip was firm. The next thing I knew, he had pressed his lips against mine.

Confused, I allowed my body to respond naturally. I found myself kissing him back without really realizing what I was doing. It's not that I wanted to kiss him. He was just such a good kisser. And I was upset. Jesse hadn't shown any interest in kissing me since the first time.

So yes, I kissed him back. So sue me.

Encouraged by my response, Paul deepened the kiss and, without unentwining our lips, somehow managed to lay me down on the bed, with him on top.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this was wrong, but my body didn't seem to care. It was as if I was on autopilot, my mind no longer in control of my body.

Nearby, I heard a small gasp and I suddenly realized what I was doing. I was kissing Paul Slater. This was wrong. I forced my eyes open and managed to roll out from underneath Paul.

I looked frantically around my room, searching for the source of the sound that had brought me back to reality. Then I saw Jesse standing near the window-seat, staring at me disbelievingly.

"Jesse," I gasped, out of breath. "Th—this isn't—I—"

"Save it, Susannah," he said angrily. His face was full of anger and something else…Could it be hurt? And then he disappeared.

"Jesse!" I yelled to the spot he'd just dematerialized from. He didn't come back, not that I'd really expected him to.

I was silent for a moment, the quiet before the storm. Then I exploded.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" I yelled at Paul, who was still lying on my bed. "I HATE YOU! GET OUT!"

The smug look on his face vanished and he strode from the room, outraged. I was vaguely aware that his expression very nearly mirrored Jesse's.

After I heard the front door slam, I buried my face in the pillow and cried.

It wasn't Paul's fault, I knew. It was mine. I had kissed him back, encouraged him when I should have told him to stop. And now Jesse was gone, and somehow I knew he wouldn't be back.

* * *

I woke with a start, my body wrapped so tightly in the covers that I thought I knew what a mummy felt like. I rolled over and disentangled myself from the sheets, the dream still fresh in my mind. I closed my eyes and shook my head back and forth, trying to shake out the image of Jesse's hurt and angry face. 

It wasn't working. Jesse's face seemed to be etched across my eyelids. I opened my eyes with a sigh.

"Ahhhhh!!!" I screamed.

Jesse clapped a hand over my mouth. "Susannah!" he hissed. "Calm down, it's just me."

I relaxed and Jesse removed his hand from over my mouth. My room was dark, though the curtains on my bay window were wide open. It must be the middle of the night. I hoped my screams wouldn't alert my parents.

"Jesse," I breathed. I still couldn't get the face from my nightmare out of my head. I looked at Jesse and realized that it wasn't only in my head. If I looked closely, I could see a trace of the same rage and pain in the face in front of me.

We were both silent a moment, waiting for the sound of someone coming up the stairs to check on me. I knew I hadn't woken up my brothers, they all slept so soundly. When a minute had passed and the house was silent, we both relaxed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jesse asked, breaking the silence.

"No."

"It was just a dream," he reminded me.

"Yeah," I said. "Just a dream." But, of course, it wasn't just a dream. It was my life. But I wasn't about to tell Jesse that I'd been dreaming about him…and, well, Paul. Mostly Paul I guess. But I felt bad. I mean, if I could redo that day all over again…

That was it. I had to redo that day all over again. If I could just change what had happened then, things might be better now.

"Paul," I said suddenly, talking more to myself than to anyone in particular. Jesse looked hurt and immediately withdrew his hand.

"He's not here," Jesse said, his voice full of disdain now.

"What?" I hadn't realized that I'd said the name aloud. "I know he's not here," I said defensively. "But I need to go see him…Jesse, it's not like that," I added as he pulled hastily away from me.

The look on his face matched the one from my dream. His dark eyes were full of anger and pain, and his mouth was curved into a frown.

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**You know the drill. 5 reviews plz!! The more the merrier. :)**


	8. Time

**A/N: I wasn't going to post this yet, but I couldn't wait. It's unbeta-ed and I didn't read over it to catch typos, so I'm sorry if there're a lot of them...On the bright side, at least I updated way earlier than I had expected to. :D**

**Mentions: I PMed everyone who was signed in. I'd also like to thank Laurene, Amanda, Ugiee, and Angel of Hell for their reviews. :D**

**Disclaimer: I keep forgetting to put these on my chapters, but just so you know, I don't own any of these characters. They're all property of Meg Cabot, the most awesome writer on earth. :)**

* * *

A Second Chance 

Chapter 8: Time

I turned the radio up until the music blocked out my thoughts. Trying not to concentrate too hard on the road, I drove. The air was heavy and smelled of salt and the road was lined with hundreds—maybe thousands—of palm trees, but it may as well have been Antarctica for the attention I paid my surroundings. In fact, Antarctica would have been more pleasant than the road I found myself on now.

I wondered how I could explain this to Jesse. He'd looked so hurt when I'd left him an hour ago. Maybe, if all went well today—well, actually it was still tonight; maybe 4:00 at the latest, but time was hardly important at the moment—I wouldn't have to explain. But what if something went wrong?

Taking a deep, calming breath, I reached out and turned the knob for the volume until thought was, once again, impossible.

The house was different in the dark. I'd only ever been here during the day when the sun sparkled on the glass wall, casting millions of tiny rainbows into the surrounding acres of land. Now no light shone on the house at all, and the sight of it made me uneasy. Nothing stirred within the many windows, and I looked at the clock. It was 3:54 in the morning. No one would be awake yet.

I pulled into the gigantic driveway anyway and cut the engine. The blaring music died away suddenly and then everything was quiet. I looked again at the house. The darkness was unnerving and the immense land surrounding it seemed too empty. It seemed more like a graveyard than a home, and I wondered if it was too late to turn back.

My heart was thumping quickly in my chest as I unlocked the car door. The resulting click seemed too loud in the silence. This was probably a really bad idea. But it had to be done. Steeling myself, I opened the door and stepped out into the cool morning air.

The doorbell chimed merrily, and the sound relaxed me. It was just an ordinary house, with an ordinary person living inside. At least, that was what I was going to trick myself into thinking for now.

I waited a minute, but no one came to the door. Relief washed over me for a minute and then I remembered why I was really here. I had to see Paul. He was the only one who could help.

My heart thumped faster and harder at the thought of my future happiness resting in Paul Slater's hands. But I knew there was no choice. My knuckles rapped quickly and firmly on the door.

A slight commotion from within brought a fresh wave of fear to my heart. Someone was coming to the door.

"Suze," he said in surprise when he'd opened the door. His voice was rough from sleep and I knew I'd woken him up. I just hoped he wasn't one of those people who were always grumpy in the morning. I needed him to be cooperative right now.

"Paul, I need to talk to you."

He yawned widely and pushed the door open for me to come through. I hesitated a moment before stepping over the threshold into Paul's house.

"Sorry to wake you," I said, though I wasn't.

"'S okay."

He flipped on a light in the living room and we both sat down. I wondered how best to start. If I just asked him straight out, he was sure to say no. But no other words came to mind. I looked around the room for inspiration. There was a huge TV in one corner, lights flashing on the VCR. A stack of movies lay beside it, but these held no interest for me. On the other side of the room stood a huge bookshelf, and I busied myself reading the titles without any real interest. Anything to keep my mind busy.

"Paul, I need to ask you something," I began. "I would appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded about this."

Confused, he nodded. "Sure, Suze. What is it?"

"You had said something before…about going back in time?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I was just wondering…how?"

His expression became guarded, cautious, as he repeated my words. "You want to know how to go back in time?" he asked, clarifying.

I nodded, unable to speak. I looked all around the room, everywhere but into his eyes.

"Why?"

This was the question I'd been afraid of. I couldn't tell him that I wanted to go back in time to stop him from kissing me that day. He'd never agree to help.

Or would he? I mean it'd been over five years. Maybe he'd changed…or maybe not, I decided, remembering what had happened yesterday when he and Jesse and I had sat in my living room, together for the first time in five years. He'd done nothing but insult Jesse the whole time and try to get me to see that he was not the bad-guy in this.

Of course, I already knew Paul wasn't the bad-guy. I was. What had happened five years ago was my fault. I had kissed him back.

"Just wondering," I said, too casually, looking down at my feet, which were tracing random patterns in the rug. I looked back up to see Paul's reaction to this.

Paul's eyes were suspicious, and I knew he was trying to figure out what I was hiding. I had to come up with a cover story fast.

"It's just that, a few years back, in New York, I turned down this huge job," I lied. "And, well, I'm wondering if I could get it back."

The suspicion didn't leave Paul's eyes as he asked, "What was the job?"

"It was a designer job," I said, the lie coming easily this time. Fashion was a huge business in New York.

"Huh," Paul said, unconvinced. The suspicion suddenly left his eyes, and he frowned. "It won't work, you know."

"Why not?"

"You can't change what was meant to be," he said, and I had a feeling we weren't talking about a job in New York anymore. "Some way or another, he would have left you, Suze."

My puzzled expression made him smile.

"De Silva," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Face it, you two were never meant to be."

I shook my head in disbelief. "You're wrong," I said quietly.

Paul's smirk vanished and his face became suddenly serious again. "Suze, he's dead," he pointed out.

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed." My voice was sarcastic as I tried to control the anger.

"How could it be meant to be if he's dead and you're not? I mean it's not like you can _marry_ him." Paul's voice was disapproving and genuinely confused as he said this. He honestly didn't have a clue why I would pick a ghost over him. "You couldn't introduce him to your parents," he continued. "And you couldn't—"

"Paul," I interrupted. "I don't care about any of that stuff. I love him, and that's all that matters." It was the first time I'd said the words out loud in a long time. I loved Jesse. That was undeniably true, and until a few weeks ago, I had been too stubborn to admit it. "Now are you going to help me or not?" I challenged.

He hesitated and I realized that he really did want to be able to help me. But not with this. "Not," he finally said. The finality was evident in his voice, and I decided not to push the matter. He wasn't going to change his mind.

"Fine." I got up and walked out, slamming the door behind me.

* * *

"I don't know, Cee. He seemed really upset," I said, shifting uncomfortably on my bed.

"Suze, he'll come around," she promised. "Just give him some time."

I looked up into Cee Cee's eyes. She was sitting on the bed next to me, trying to convince me of what I knew could not be true. "But it's been two days. How much time does he need?" I complained.

I hadn't seen Jesse since before I'd gone to Paul's house. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that he wasn't waiting for me at home. After all, if the situation were reversed, I wouldn't have waited around.

Cee Cee sighed. "Suze, he'll come around," she repeated.

"But what if he doesn't?" I asked, not caring how desperate I sounded. "What if I never see him again?" My eyes welled up with tears, and my voice began to sound hysteric even to my own ears.

Cee Cee put her arms around me and stroked my back softly. "He will," she promised again.

"I—I think I still…I love him."

"I know," she whispered soothingly. "I know you do."

I pulled away from her, shocked. "How did you know?"

She smiled. "Suze, I'm your best friend," she pointed out. "It's my job to know." She laughed. "Besides, it was completely obvious. I think the only one who doesn't know you're in love with Jesse is…well, Jesse."

A tear slipped through my barriers and left a wet trail down my cheek. "I don't think he's very happy with me right now," I confided.

Cee Cee smiled. "He'll get over it," she repeated again. I smiled, too. Everything just seemed okay when I was with Cee Cee. She was my best friend, and she was the only person who could make me feel better right now. "You know," she said quietly, "he loves you, too."

My smile disappeared. "You're just trying to make me feel better," I accused.

My best friend sighed again, giving up. "Fine," she said. "Believe whatever you want. But I've seen the way he looks at you."

My eyes furrowed in confusion. The way he looks at me? But he treats me so normally. Like he treats everyone else. Cee Cee must be delusional. Or, more likely, she really is just trying to make me feel better.

The bed creaked slightly under me as Cee Cee got up and walked towards the door. "I think I'm going to go home for a little while," she said.

I waved absentmindedly. "Have fun."

Cee Cee had been spending most of her time at home with Adam and Allie lately. I knew I wouldn't see her for the rest of the day.

I groaned as I thought of the empty day ahead and lay back on the bed. Suddenly I felt exhausted, and as soon as I closed my eyes, I was asleep.

* * *

I awoke from a dreamless sleep, feeling well rested and ready to face another day. My mouth opened wide in a yawn and I stretched my arms over my head. A glance at my alarm clock told me it was already 1:00 in the afternoon. My stomach rumbled hungrily, and I went downstairs to find some lunch.

It wasn't until after I'd finished my sandwich that I remembered that I didn't have anything to do today. Cee Cee was visiting her family and Jesse was mad at me. I couldn't think of anyone else I could spend the day with. Didn't I have any other friends? No, I'd left everyone behind when I'd left for New York all that time ago. And now I'd left my New York friends to come back home.

I settled down in the living room to watch TV. There was nothing else to do. I flipped through the channels quickly, trying to find something to watch.

"Commercial…old movie…seen it…boring…infomercial…" I identified each thing flashing across the screen with each click. There was nothing good on TV. Sighing, I hit the power button and watched the screen go blank.

I walked back up the stairs, hoping to find inspiration in my room. I flung the door open carelessly and flopped back on the bed.

A movement out of the corner of my eye made my head turn.

"Ahh!"

Jesse's deep brown eyes stared back at me.

I stopped screaming as I recognized him. "Jesus, you scared me," I accused. "Again."

"Sorry," he said, though he didn't sound very sorry at all. His dark brown eyes held no emotion as he stared at me. Cee Cee was wrong. He didn't love me. I could see the way he was looking at me, and it certainly wasn't lovingly.

I hesitated, trying to find words that wouldn't sound completely stupid. "I'm glad you're back," I said truthfully. "I missed you."

"Hmm," he acknowledged, hardly paying any attention. I couldn't ever remember Jesse being so stubborn. He usually forgave me right away.

"Jesse…"

His silence wasn't making this any easier for me. Well, I guess I deserved that.

"I'm sorry," I told him. "You have no idea how much."

His expression remained guarded, and his eyes gave away nothing. But his gentlemanly upbringing seemed to get the best of him now.

"I accept your apology," he said politely.

"Thank you," I whispered, but I could tell it wasn't over.

It was silent for a moment. I didn't know what else I could say to make it better between us. The only sound in the room was my heavy heartbeat. I was sure Jesse could hear it, but he gave no indication as to whether or not he was even paying attention. He just stared out my window at the clouds rolling by.

"You wanna watch a movie?" I asked.

"Not really."

"Oh…" I bit my nails nervously. "Okay then."

I wasn't used to Jesse being so cold and uncaring towards me. I guessed I wasn't totally forgiven. Well, that was okay. I would find a way to make it up to him.

"We could watch the history channel," I teased.

He was faced away from me, still looking out the window, but I saw the corners of his lips curve up in a smile. He knew how much I hated the history channel.

"C'mon," I urged him. "You know I deserve it. I'll sit through an entire documentary of the Cold War if that'll make you happy."

He laughed, then, all coldness forgotten. His eyes were no longer guarded but teasing as he faked reluctance. "Well," he said, "I guess…"

We were both laughing, our little fight forgotten, as we walked down the stairs to the living room to watch TV.

Jesse watched in fascination as history replayed itself on the screen, and I wondered what was so interesting about it. I settled for watching his face, judging his reaction to the pictures appearing on the screen. He was horrified by the battle scenes, awed by the stories of bravery, and elated by the victories shown.

I must have drifted off for a few minutes because the next thing I remember was opening my eyes to find my head on Jesse's shoulder and a new documentary—just as boring as the first, it appeared—playing on the screen.

I felt more comfortable than I had in a long time lying there, my head propped up on Jesse's shoulder. If I woke up, I knew I'd have to apologize and move my head, so I pretended to be asleep. I tried to keep my breathing rhythmic as I closed my eyes again and breathed in his scent.

* * *

**By now you know the drill. 5 reviews. Even more and I'll write much much faster. :D Please review!! BTW, I think I'll update 'Another' sometime in the next few days, so I may not update this fic until next weekend. Just depends...**


	9. Breaking and Entering

**A/N: OK I know I said you'd have to wait till next weekend for an update, but I just couldn't wait. lol. So here's another chapter already. Hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or plots. Meg Cabot does. 'Nough said.**

**Mentions: Yay I got nine reviews last chapter!!! Thank you to Melcangel, Laurene, Lolli, Larkamarie, Aliasin, Amanda, VolcanicVixen, iluvedward93, and g.eci for your reviews. Sorry I couldn't PM all of you like I usually do, but on the plus side, it allowed me to get the chapter up faster. :)**

* * *

_A Second Chance_

Chapter 9: Breaking and Entering

Jesse wasn't mad at me anymore, but things still weren't quite right between us. I was determined to fix that. After all, this rift between us was entirely my fault, and, therefore, my responsibility. But how do you fix a rift this huge?

I thought I had an idea.

The going back in time thing was not going to work if I couldn't get Paul to help me, and he'd made it pretty clear he wouldn't. I didn't know anything about time travel, and it's not something that I can research on Google.

But then I remembered that nightmare I'd had the night before: the flashback to that day everything had gone wrong; the day my world had fallen apart. My subconscious had given me the answer that night, but I was too preoccupied with the rest of the dream—mostly Jesse's horrified face—to notice.

There was a reason Paul had come to my house that day. He'd brought something with him to show me. It was something I'd forgotten about as soon as Jesse had come into the room and seen us. But it was perhaps the most important part of that day.

Paul had given me the answer to my problems…Well, sort of anyway. There was a spell—the Resurrectio spell—in that book that would solve all of my problems. I could bring Jesse back to life. And then what could stop us from being together? Certainly not Paul, though, of course, he'd try.

The book was the key. Now, how could I convince Paul to give me the book? He'd already made it crystal clear that he wasn't going to cooperate. I don't think I could charm him into giving it to me; he'd see right through that.

So that left me only one option.

I was going to break into Paul's house.

Tonight.

It took a lot of planning to commit a federal offense. First I had to come up with a cover story for my parents…and for Jesse. It would also provide me with an alibi if one became necessary. I could only hope that it wouldn't. An alibi used to be an easy enough thing to come by. I could just tell my parents I was spending the night at Cee Cee's. She'd always covered for me, no questions asked. But that wouldn't work now, for obvious reasons. So I needed to get creative.

I could tell them I was going over to Adam's house. We were always close, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind covering for me if someone called to check out my story. Yes, that would have to work.

Next I needed an accomplice. I'd broken into a few buildings in my day, but it hadn't been easy. I needed someone to stand lookout. Especially at Paul's house, where I knew the security would be tight. I mean, Paul's family is a wealthy one. They would have a top-notch security system. The perfect accomplice is someone who would blend in rather than looking suspicious. Neighbors tended to get a little worked-up when there was a strange man dressed in black lurking around.

Well, this would be easy enough. Cee Cee could be my partner in crime. None of Paul's neighbors would be able to see her, and hopefully Paul wouldn't look out his window and see her. Also, she wouldn't fall asleep if I took too long inside the house. All in all, she was the best option I had.

Finally, I needed to figure out when and how to break in. This would require a lot of study. There's a weak point in every security system. I just had to find it. Obviously, walking through the front door is out of the question. Most first-floor windows have alarms on them, so that wouldn't work either. But usually no one bothers to lock the upper-floor windows. Maybe I'd get lucky. Of course, I'd have to scale a wall to get to them, but I'd done more difficult things.

As for time, it'd have to be sometime in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep. Probably around 3:00a.m. would work.

That only left me with one problem. I had no idea where the book was. There had been a bookshelf in Paul's living room, but I couldn't remember seeing it there. I racked my brain for a possible location, but I knew I'd most likely have to search the house. Paul's house was huge, and there were a ton of rooms. I'd narrow down the options to the most likely.

My parents bought the excuse right away. It seemed like a good idea to them that I spend the night there and help Adam with the baby. Jesse didn't even ask where I was going when I told him I was going out. I told him anyway just in case he got suspicious.

Cee Cee agreed to help right away, as I knew she would. She hated sitting around doing nothing and jumped at the opportunity to get out of the house. I filled her in on my plan, not leaving out any details. She seemed excited about the possibility of a resurrection spell, though, of course, if she were to become alive again, she'd have to start all over someplace else. It's not like we could tell people she'd come back from the dead.

After I filled Cee Cee in on the plan, she went off to my room in search of "stealth clothes" for me to wear. I followed her to the bedroom, thanking God that Jesse had somewhere else to be today. It might look a little bit suspicious if he saw me packing what Cee Cee referred to as "spy equipment."

Really it was just a few simple tools that everyone should have handy. A bobby-pin for picking locks, a grappling hook for scaling large buildings (This would be especially handy if it really did come to sneaking in through a second-floor window.), a camera phone, a flashlight, and a screwdriver because you never know when you're going to need one.

And then all that was left to do was wait. At eight o'clock I told my parents I was headed off to Adam's house, but, of course, I had no intention of going there. I'd called him up earlier and he'd agreed to cover for me in exchange for free baby-sitting that Saturday.

So instead of going to Adam's house, I drove around town for a while with Cee Cee, stopping every so often to shop on Cee Cee's request (though I'm not sure what a ghost needs a new outfit for). We didn't end up buying anything, just wasting the time looking.

When a few hours had passed and all the stores were closed, we got back in the car and started driving to Paul's house. It was after midnight when we got there, but there were still a few hours to waste. I parked the car down the block and turned off the lights, just waiting until 3:00.

When at last the time came, I changed quickly into the outfit Cee Cee had picked out for me: the classic black pants, black shirt, and black hat combo used in every TV show. I grabbed the bag of supplies and headed to Paul's house with Cee Cee.

By the time we got there, I could feel the adrenaline pulsing in my veins. I wasn't nervous like any normal person should be, just excited.

I showed Cee Cee where to wait, in a tree in the front yard where she could see everything happening on the street below. She would also be able to see the second floor of the house from her perch. It was the perfect lookout position. And if she saw something, she would hoot like an owl. Three times if I needed to get out immediately, twice if I needed to lay low for a minute. No one but Paul would be able to hear her anyway, and I hoped he would be asleep the whole time. The last thing I needed was for Paul to catch me breaking into his house.

Cee Cee looked around from her perch in the tree and gave me the okay. Then, I got to work. There was an open window on the second floor. No one would have bothered to close it. After all, someone would have to be crazy to try to get in through it.

Well, then I guess I'm crazy.

The grappling hook didn't turn out to be necessary, which was good because it was kind of noisy and very conspicuous. There was a small ledge below the open window where the roof met the side of the house, and that was my destination. In order to get there I had to climb up a tree by the side of the house and then climb another ten feet up the gutter—not easy let me tell you; those things have no handholds.

Somehow I managed to get up to the window without making too much noise. I only slipped on the gutter twice, and both times I managed to brace myself against the wall of the house.

The cool night breeze swept my hair into my face, and I pushed it aside before slipping lithely through the open window.

My eyes took a few minutes to adjust to the darkness. I didn't recognize the room I was in, but it looked like a study. There were papers scattered everywhere, and a huge bookshelf stood in one corner. I decided this was a good place to start looking. I whipped out my flashlight and ran it over the spines of the books, reading the unfamiliar titles. It wasn't until I was about half way through that I realized I didn't know the title of the book I was looking for. It had been an old book, and the cover was worn so much that the title was completely illegible. I started the search over again, looking for a scarlet leather cover, worn by age.

It wasn't in this room. I turned the flashlight off again as I left the room and wandered down the dark hallway. The next place to check was the dining room, downstairs.

I was glad that the Slaters had kept their house in top condition. Our stairs always creaked under any weight, but there was not one sound as I descended this dark staircase. I tiptoed lightly to the living room I'd been in only yesterday.

I searched the bookcases lining the walls but to no avail. The book wasn't here either. In fact, none of the titles had proclaimed anything out of the ordinary. I was sure there must be a section somewhere in this house devoted to mediating. That's where I would find the book.

The Slaters would not want anyone to find these books for obvious reasons. Everyone would think they were insane. Therefore, the books were probably kept upstairs somewhere. I crept back up the stairs to the top floor and began entering rooms at random. The only room I avoided was the one in which I knew Paul slept. The book wouldn't be in his room, would it? No, I was sure Paul had had a few girls in his room before. He wouldn't want them to find these books.

Most of the rooms I entered were empty or used only for storage. I bypassed these rooms without a second thought. Finally I entered a room that looked promising. All four walls were lined from floor to ceiling with books. This must be the library. I took out my flashlight again and got to work.

The titles all seemed ordinary. There were books about science and history. Nothing you couldn't find in any other house. I had searched three of the four walls without finding anything interesting. Obviously it wasn't here. I nearly left, but something caught my eye.

I shined the light on the wall I hadn't yet checked. A whole row of faded red leather covers stood on a shelf. Cautiously, as if something were about to jump out and bite me, I walked to the wall farthest from the door and ran my finger lightly over the red leather spines. The covers all looked like the one from my dream. It must have been some sort of mediator encyclopedia. Which one was the one I needed?

I remembered that the cover of the book from my dream was worn so that the only word I could really see was "Ghost." Well, that didn't help much. More than half of these titles seemed to have the word ghost, though they were all worn nearly as much as the other one.

The light from my flashlight landed on the first red book in the row, and I pulled it out to examine the cover. The author's name was clearly legible on this one. Claire Lenore. Hadn't the author's last name started with an S? With this piece of information, I sorted through the rest of the books, putting in a stack the ones that were written by an author whose name started with S.

When I had finished, a stack four books high stood in front of me. One of them did not have the word "Ghost" written on it, and I put that one back on the shelf. I spread the remaining three books in front of me and stared at the covers. They all looked the same to me, so I flipped open the pages, looking at the dog-eared sections.

A lot of unfamiliar titles were written on the pages, and if I'd had time I would have read them all. But I couldn't risk getting caught. I went through two of the books without finding anything about a Resurrectio incantation. I picked up the final book and opened the cover excitedly.

"Hoot hoot," came a voice from outside. Cee Cee. What had two hoots meant again? Lie low? I turned off the flashlight quickly just as I heard footsteps pass outside the door. I heard a hushed voice whisper, "Stupid owls," and I hid in the darkness, holding my breath, until I heard the faint sound of a door closing. The book dug into my arms, which were pressing it tightly against my chest.

I didn't dare to move for a few minutes and then I heard footsteps again. I flattened myself against the bookshelf, hiding in the shadows. And then came the quiet _click_ of a door closing, somewhere down the hall. Paul's room. That was too close.

I flipped the flashlight back on a few minutes later and started rifling through the pages of the last red book. Finally, I found a page with the word "Resurrection" in small type near the top. My breath caught. I'd found it.

"Hoot hoot hoot," came an urgent call from outside. Three hoots. Get out now.

But I couldn't leave. There were no windows in this room, and no way to escape. I heard a siren in the distance. The police. Someone had called the police. Had a neighbor seen me sneaking in?

I sucked in my breath and hoped that the sirens wouldn't wake Paul. And then I heard muffled footsteps down the hall, coming this way. They were coming quickly now. I was going to get caught. I fumbled with the zipper on my backpack and pulled out the camera phone. Leaving the flashlight on, I snapped a quick picture of the page marked "Resurrection." All I had time to do was throw the book into a corner and shove my phone into the bag before the door to the library opened, and the room was flooded with light.

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**I feel like I'm repeating myself a lot and by now you all know this, but 5 reviews gets you another chapter. So please please PLEASE review because I'm dying to update!! I'll get the next chapter up ASAP.**


	10. Deer in the Headlights

**A/N: I finished this chapter on Tuesday, and I've been dying to post it! Finally, I got a fifth review...The last chapter received the least amount of reviews of any of my chapters for this story so far...:( Oh, and for all of you wondering what happened to Suze tracking down Cee Cee's murderer, I haven't forgotten. I'll get back to that in the next chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Meg Cabot's.**

**Mentions: I PMed all of you that were signed in, but I also wanted to thank Amanda and Becca. Glad you guys liked it. Please review again!**

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A Second Chance

Chapter 10: Deer in the Headlights

A light switch was turned on and for a moment I was blinded. I shut my eyes tight, bright spots clouding my vision.

When I opened my eyes, there was a tall, dark figure standing in the doorway, leaning lightly against the doorframe, a familiar smirk on his face. I felt like a deer trapped in the headlights, unable to move, even to save my own life. I just sat there on the floor of the library, holding my bag tight to my chest.

The sirens were louder now, no longer just background noise; they were almost here. And I had no escape.

"Suze!" Paul said in mock surprise. "So nice to see you again, but you know," he added, teasing, "you could have called."

My heart skipped a beat, and I realized I was afraid. I wanted to talk to him, reason with him, but words would not come. He strolled over to the book I'd thrown haphazardly across the room. He held it up, tsking. "Such an old book," he chided, "deserves to be handled with respect."

Downstairs, I could hear a quick, hard knock on the door. The sirens had stopped, and that could only mean one thing.

The police were here.

My heart began to hammer in my chest, as if trying to escape the confines of my ribs and save itself. I knew there was no chance of escape. Even if I could get by Paul (unlikely), the police were probably surrounding the house.

"Come in," Paul yelled to the cops. The sound of a door being thrown open echoed up the stairs. "Up here," he shouted to the police.

"Paul," I whispered, pleading.

"Now, Suze, breaking and entering is a federal crime. The police will handle it. You wouldn't want to take the nice policemen's jobs away from them, now would you?" he said in a mocking voice.

Three armed men were suddenly at the door to the library. Somehow, they were less terrifying to me than Paul was. My heart didn't even skip a beat at the sight of them. I had had my fair share of arrests. Mostly breaking and entering, just like tonight. And, just like tonight, I'd been breaking in to help out a ghost. The only difference was that this particular ghost had not asked to be helped out and would most likely be very angry at me for trying.

One of the policemen—his nametag said George Wilson—looked at Paul, tipped his hat, and said, "Good evening, Mr. Slater." It was obvious that the Slaters had, at one point, made a large donation to the police force. This cop was being too nice, as if he couldn't afford to get on Paul's bad side. "We got a call," he continued, trying to sound official now. I could tell this was the police chief. Only the best for Mr. Slater, I thought grudgingly. "Your neighbor, a Miss…" he pulled a small sheet of paper from his pocket and glanced at it briefly "Georgia Windsor called us a few minutes ago. Said she saw someone sneaking in through a second-floor window."

"Ah, yes," said Paul casually. He glanced at me. "It seems Miss Simon here has broken into my house." I shot a betrayed glare at Paul.

"Did she now?" said Officer Wilson. He stepped further into the room, towards me. I didn't even flinch. He stared me down, trying to get me to back down, but I'd seen this old trick before and I wasn't about to fall for it. I looked back into the police officer's eyes stubbornly, refusing to admit to anything. His brown eyes stared back into my green ones for another moment before he broke eye contact. He turned his attention back to Paul. "Well, Mr. Slater, would you like to press charges?" He sounded hopeful, as if excited to finally be getting a bit of action. Or maybe he was just angry at me for not breaking down under his gaze.

Paul looked at me and deliberated for a moment, pretending to think it over. I stared straight ahead at one of the book-covered walls, refusing to plead with Paul Slater. I had more pride than that.

It seemed like an hour had passed before Paul answered, though it was probably only a minute. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, "No harm done."

The police chief, looking disheartened, nodded once at Paul, and then turned again to me. "I'll give you a ride home." It was not an offer. It was a demand. Without a word, I got up from the floor.

I had only taken a single step towards the door when Paul's voice stopped me. "Could we have a moment?" he asked the police chief kindly. The man nodded again and stepped from the room, motioning to his cronies to follow. He shut the door behind them.

"Susie, Susie, Susie," Paul said quietly, stroking the faded red cover of the book that had caused all of this. He examined the cover carefully. "I'm surprised you even found the right book. How long have you been in here?"

I faked a smile I didn't feel. "A while."

"I was wondering if you'd remember this book," he said, more to himself than to me. "After everything that happened that day, I'm surprised this particular detail stuck with you."

I didn't bother to correct him. Indeed the memory of the book had gotten buried under the rest of the day's events…until tonight. My silence seemed to annoy him, and he continued.

"Well, no harm done, I suppose. I'll just have to hide this somewhere more appropriate." He held up the red book, much the same as he had done that fateful day five years ago.

I feigned disappointment. Of course, he didn't know that I'd managed to snap a picture of the page I needed. I pretended that he'd foiled my plan, knowing it'd make him less suspicious. "I'll find a way," I promised him. "With or without your help." I just hoped that picture would turn out. With my luck, it'd probably be too blurry to read.

He smiled. "Fine."

The police chief was getting impatient. He rapped firmly on the door. "Just a minute," Paul said firmly. "What's in the bag, Suze?"

I realized I was still hugging the bag to my chest. I opened it reluctantly and passed it to Paul. I hoped he wouldn't be suspicious of the camera phone. He sifted through the contents, looking amused. "A grappling hook? You find this just lying around the house, Suze?" he laughed at his own joke as he jammed the grappling hook back into the bag with more force than was strictly necessary and passed it to me. I let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding. The phone was safe.

"Come in," Paul called to the waiting police officers. The door opened and the police chief walked in, alone. I guessed his partners were waiting for me in the car.

"C'mon, Miss Simon," he said to me. I followed him out the door.

"Good bye, Suze," Paul called. I turned back and he was grinning. I could tell this wasn't over. I stuck out my tongue in defiance, but he just laughed.

The policeman led me to a waiting cop car and pulled open the back door for me. I felt as if I was being arrested rather than escorted back home. I stepped into the car and sat back. It was going to be a long ride home.

I looked out the window, searching for Cee Cee among the thick leaves of the tree in which I'd left her, but she wasn't there. Finally, I found her sitting on the curb a little ways away from Paul's house, behind a mailbox so he wouldn't see her. I waved lightly and she waved back sadly. I shrugged my shoulders, trying to tell her that everything was okay. Then I noticed a figure sitting beside her, his dark eyes glaring at me.

Jesse.

My heart jumped wildly around in my ribcage, and I waved meekly, hoping Cee Cee hadn't told him the whole story. Maybe I'd be able to come up with a believable excuse.

The policeman who'd led me out of the house sat in the passenger side seat. I noticed that one of the other cops was sitting in the driver's side, staring at me in the rear-view mirror. He was probably wondering whom I was waving at. There had been three cops in the house, so I guessed that the other one had taken his own car back to the station.

I gave my address to the driver when he asked for it, and then we drove off into the night.

I reached into my bag to find the camera phone. I had to make sure it was still there.

It was. The phone sat under the grappling hook, it's screen cracked and it's batteries destroyed. "Paul," I muttered under my breath.

The ride home was silent, and I wondered why no one had bothered to ask me _why_ I'd broken into Paul's house in the first place. Probably they just didn't care. Or they were still sulking over the fact that they didn't get to arrest me. Not tonight anyway.

When we got to my house, I hoped that the police would just let me go in alone. But of course they didn't. They walked me to my door, one on each side of my body.

The policeman who had driven reached out a finger and pressed the doorbell. I could hear it chime loudly inside through the quiet house. It was the middle of the night. They would wake everyone up.

After a minute, the door opened and I saw Andy standing in the threshold, wrapped in a robe to protect himself from the evening chill. He looked surprised to see me, of course. And even more surprised to see the officers flanking me.

"Mr. Simon?" the police chief asked.

"It's Ackerman actually," Andy corrected. "I'm Suze's step-father. May I ask what's going on?"

My mom appeared behind Andy, her eyes half closed. "Susie?" she asked. "What happened?"

Officer Wilson stepped forward. "We apprehended Miss Simon after she broke into a house," he offered. No one asked for details and he didn't offer any.

"Susie?" my mom asked, turning to me for comprehension. I could tell she was hoping I'd deny it. I didn't.

"Sorry to wake you, Mom, Andy." I walked past them into the dark house and up the stairs to my room.

When I got to my room, I shut the door and dumped the contents of my bag onto the bed. I grabbed the phone and the broken pieces of battery and set them on my desk, turning on the lamp so I could see them more clearly. Was it destroyed beyond repair?

"Susannah," said a soft voice from behind me. A light hand touched my shoulder, and I turned to face him. I had nearly forgotten about Jesse in my worry over the phone. Or rather the picture on the phone.

"Jesse," I whispered. "I…" I'm sorry is what I had intended to say, but I realized that I wasn't.

The anger I'd seen earlier was gone from his eyes, replaced by concern. "Susannah, how could you be so…so…" He struggled for the right word.

"Careless?" I finished for him.

"Actually, I was going for foolish, but sure. Careless works."

"Hector Jesse de Silva!" I said, shocked. "Did you just call me a fool? What happened to the chivalrous Jesse I know?" I laughed, but he didn't.

"You could have gotten yourself arrested," he said, a little bit of the former anger returning to his eyes. "You could have gotten hurt."

"But I didn't," I pointed out. "Not a scratch on me."

"Yeah, thanks to Cee Cee," he muttered.

"What?" I asked, confused. How had Cee Cee gotten into this?

He seemed to realize he'd said too much. His mouth pressed together into a thin line, as if that were the only way he could force the words to stay in.

"Jesse! What do you mean 'thanks to Cee Cee'?"

He sighed. "She told me not to tell you." I waited for him to continue. "Okay, okay. Cee Cee told me where you were going tonight."

"What?!" I shouted, a little too loudly. Fortunately, no one came up to check on me. I guessed Andy was probably too busy comforting my mother, and my stepbrothers were all sound sleepers. I wouldn't be surprised if none of them had woken up when the doorbell rang.

Jesse looked disapproving. "_You_ should have told me," he said.

"But if I told you, you wouldn't have let me go."

"No," he agreed. "I wouldn't have. But I also wouldn't have had to wake up poor Miss Windsor in the middle of the night."

The name sounded familiar, and I wondered where I'd heard it before. Then I remembered the police chief's words. Windsor was the name of the lady who'd called the police. "What?!" I said again, quieter this time, though just as angry. Maybe more. "You what??"

He sighed. "I had to. Paul was going to catch you."

"So you got the police to catch me instead?" I asked in disbelief. "How was that supposed to help matters?"

"The police wouldn't hurt you," he said, as if it was so obvious. "And they wouldn't let Slater hurt you either."

"Jesse," I whined. "I can take care of myself."

Now Jesse laughed. He just stood there, laughing aloud as if I'd made a joke.

"What?" I hissed.

"Susannah, how many time have you nearly gotten yourself killed?" he asked, a rhetorical question.

"Nearly being the key word, since I'm still alive," I pointed out.

"Yeah, thanks to sheer luck."

I glared at him. "I can't believe you made someone call the police on me."

Jesse sighed. "Go to sleep, Susannah."

"I'm not—"

"It's four thirty in the morning, Susannah," he interrupted. "Go to sleep. We can argue in the morning."

"Fine." We would definitely continue this in the morning. I wouldn't forget. I stalked off to the bathroom to change, practically slamming the door behind me. When I came back out, I was a little calmer. And I _was_ tired. Committing a federal offense had its way of wearing a girl out. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

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**5 reviews plz!! I'll probably write the next chapter today since it's raining and tennis is, therefore, cancelled for the day. I can post as early as tonight if I get 5 reviews. So please review:)**


	11. Doctor Jesse

**A/N: I just got my 5th review a few minutes ago, so here's the next installment of _A Second Chance_. It's extremely long for me. I got a little carried away. Really hope you like it! I tried to add a little bit of Jesse/Suze fluff, but there's also a few other things going on. Let me know if it gets confusing at any point, but I think it's okay.**

**Mentions: Thanks so much to the 5 ppl who reviewed: mcobsessed, laurenereads7, Jesse's Querida Forever, christina, and guitarstrings. I private messaged all of you I think (except Christina, who was not signed in. Thanks so much for reviewing, Christina. I'm glad you liked it and I updated as soon as I could), so lets get on with the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: All characters and background plot property of Meg Cabot.**

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_A Second Chance_

Chapter 11: Doctor Jesse

_A pair of blood-red eyes stared unblinkingly through the darkness, searching for something…searching for me. I was afraid to move for fear that those eyes would sense my progress and find me. It was so dark I couldn't even see my own hand, held out in front of my face._

_Something slithered over my bare foot and I yelped, simultaneously kicking it away, back into the dark where it had come from. The creature made no sound when it fell, and I could not tell which direction it had gone._

_Then the searching red eyes, having heard my reverberating scream, found their mark. I turned and ran as fast as I could, but it was no good. No matter how hard I pumped my legs, I seemed to be rooted to the spot. I couldn't feel the ground beneath my feet, and I wondered where I was. My feet kicked helplessly, trying to find a supporting surface. I screamed for help, but there was no one else around. There weren't any trees to hide behind or rocks to throw. There wasn't even air. There was just an empty nothingness __surrounding me on all sides._

_And then I noticed the fog for the first time, swirling around my bare feet—or where I imagined my feet were in the darkness. Besides the red eyes, this strange fog was the only thing visible._

_The eyes were coming closer now, locked on me as if I were a target. They advanced faster and faster, running now. They were almost here._

_I threw myself to the ground, hoping those eyes would lose me amongst the swirling grey fog._

_I expected to land with a loud thud, but there was no sound and no ground below to catch me. It felt like I was falling, falling into nothingness with no end in sight._

_The eyes were confused now. I had lost them. They swept down to the ground where I'd been a moment before, the owner of those blood-red eyes probably swirling his hands around in the mist that had swallowed me whole._

_And I was still falling. I felt as if I would descend forever into this bottom-less pit. I wasn't even sure I was really falling. I couldn't see anything through the darkness, but that was okay because there was nothing to see. There was no air around me, and so there was no breeze to tell me that I was moving. There was only that dark nothingness, and I knew I would spend my whole life falling into it. I was glad, though. I had escaped the murderous red eyes, and it seemed like a good trade-off to me. So I relaxed, closed my eyes, and let my body fall._

_But then cool hands grasped my shoulders and began to pull me up. My eyes opened wide to see red eyes above me. I twisted and turned in the monster's hands, trying to get away from those piercing red eyes._

I awoke with a start and stifled my scream in the pillow. Cool hands were holding me, but they were different somehow. These hands were gentle and familiar, and I opened my eyes to see Jesse kneeling over me, his dark eyes concerned.

His hands released my shoulders when he saw my eyes open, but he remained kneeling over me. "Susannah, what's wrong?" he whispered.

I shook my head slowly, still in a daze. It was just a dream, I told myself. Just a dream. Only, it had felt like more. Even now I could feel the murderous red eyes watching me. It had all felt so real. But it wasn't possible. I remembered standing in that nothingness, and wondered why it had felt strangely familiar.

It was still dark outside my window, and I knew I could have only been asleep for a few hours. I felt exhausted, and I knew I was only half-awake.

Jesse stroked my arm gently and whispered, "Shh, _querida_. Everything's fine now. It was just a dream." This line sounded familiar. He always said that when I had nightmares. He sounded far away—I must have still been off in Dreamland somewhere—and I wanted to reach up and touch his face, to assure this angel—for what else could he be, glowing so brilliantly—that I was all right. A voice in the back of my head reminded me that I was supposed to be mad at the angel for something, but I hushed it quickly. How could anyone be mad at an angel?

I realized my body was shaking. I pulled the blankets tighter around me, trying to control it. But I knew the shaking had nothing to do with the cold.

I sat up slowly with the intention of going to the bathroom to splash water over my face, wanting to wake up fully, and all the blood rushed to my head. I felt dizzy and had to lie back down. I shut my eyes tight and tried not to think of the red dots blurring my vision as eyes.

"Susannah?" Jesse whispered. His voice was sweet, and it was no wonder that I had mistaken him for an angel in my former dreamlike state. "Susannah, you're pale. Are you alright?"

I opened my eyes again to see Jesse's worried face hovering over me. He was waiting for an answer. I struggled to find words. "I don't know," I said truthfully. "I feel a little dizzy."

His eyebrows furrowed in concern, and he got off the bed. A moment later he was back with a glass of water in his hand. I propped myself up on one elbow and drank the water quickly, as if it would help to wash away the nightmare plaguing my subconscious.

When I'd finished, I placed the empty glass on my nightstand and lay back in bed, feeling slightly more awake. With my temporary haze gone, there was nothing to mask the pain in my head. I groaned. "I don't feel so good," I admitted.

Jesse pressed something cool and damp against my forehead. "Go back to sleep, Susannah," he instructed.

I closed my eyes obediently and smiled. "Doctor's orders?" I teased, remembering Jesse's secret dream to become a doctor.

I heard him laugh as I drifted into unconsciousness. "Doctor's orders," he echoed, and that was the last thing I heard before drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I woke up again it was morning. Bright sunlight drifted in through the big bay window. I threw the covers off and began to get up.

But a strong hand pushed me back down. Jesse looked at me disapprovingly. "You're not going anywhere," he said firmly.

"Jesseeee," I whined in protest, but I knew I shouldn't fight him on this. My head _did_ feel a little funny.

He looked satisfied as I lay back in bed and pulled the covers back over my body. "Fine," I said in mock defeat. "I'll stay in bed."

There was a tentative knock at the door and then my mom came in, followed by Andy. The events of the previous night suddenly rushed into my head. This would not be good. I hoped I was still pale from the night before. Maybe if I looked really ill, they'd go easier on me.

I faked a cough, and said weakly, "Come in." Jesse eyed me disapprovingly and then left to give me some privacy. I knew he'd be back when my parents had gone.

"Susie," said my mother. She sounded uncomfortable, like she'd much rather be anywhere else. She paused when I coughed again. "Are you sick?"

I nodded weakly. If I was going to have to stay in bed all day, I may as well use it to my advantage. It seemed to work. Her motherly instincts got the best of her and she sat on the edge of my bed and stroked my cheek. "You're warm," she reported. "I'll make you some soup." Soup was my mother's sick food, the cure for all ails. She always used to give it to me as a kid, telling me it would cure anything. And usually it did. She got up to go, but Andy whispered something to her when she walked by, stopping her.

My mom turned back to me again, and I knew what was coming before she said it. "Suze, what happened last night?" she asked carefully. I could tell she was uncomfortable asking me this. She would probably rather not know what had really happened last night.

I coughed again, trying to buy some time. I knew Andy wasn't falling for the sick routine…Even though it wasn't strictly a routine seeing as how I really _was_ sick.

Telling them the truth would probably be best. Or as close to the truth as I could without telling them about Jesse. I've found that it's easier to keep your lies straight if you told lies that were as close to the truth as possible. But at the moment my head hurt too much to think up a good half-truth.

"Misunderstanding," I mumbled, closing my eyes against the pain in my head. If I couldn't think of a good half-truth yet, I just wouldn't give her any details.

"Oh," she said, obviously relieved. She had taken my answer to mean that I had not in fact broken into Paul's house. Well, that was fine by me. She could think whatever she liked.

"Mom, can you get me an Advil?" I asked.

"Sure," she said brightly, glad to have something helpful to do. She walked by Andy and through my door to get the medicine. Andy looked disappointed, but he left with her.

A moment later my mom returned with a red pill and a glass of water. "Thanks, Mom," I croaked, my throat dry, as I took them from her. I popped the pill in my mouth and chased it down with the glass of water.

"You're welcome," she answered, smiling. I thought I'd gotten off the hook with the whole breaking and entering thing, but then she added, "Oh, by the way, you're grounded until further notice." And then she walked out of the room.

"Crap," I said aloud.

Jesse appeared at my side and shot me a look that was clearly disapproving of my swearing. I didn't see what the big deal was. He swore in Spanish all the time…at least I think he was swearing. They didn't teach us Spanish swear words at school.

I rolled my eyes, but the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my head. "Ouch." I squeezed my fingers against my temples, dulling the pain.

Jesse put his hand on my forehead, told me to open my mouth and stick my tongue out, and asked me a lot of questions—Where does it hurt?, How bad does it hurt?, Does it hurt if I do this?—before finally giving me his diagnosis. "Susannah, you've just got—"

"A headache? I never would've guessed," I said sarcastically, teasing.

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Would you like me to get you anything? A cold compress perhaps?"

"Soup," I answered, much to his amusement. I started to go get it, but Jesse pushed me back into bed again.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked. "I told you to stay in bed."

I sighed. "Jesse, I'm not an invalid. I can get my own soup."

He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me gently back into the bed. "I'll get it," he said, his mouth inches from my own. His cool breath blew in my face and for a moment I couldn't remember what we were arguing about. I would have agreed to anything at that moment.

"Okay," I said, dazed. He was so close, only a few inches from me. My heart leapt in my chest. I lay back in bed again, and Jesse left the room.

Alone in my room, visions from my nightmare haunted me. I couldn't figure out why I felt like I'd been there before, wherever "there" was. And why I seemed to know that those eyes belonged to someone I knew.

And then it hit me.

Cee Cee.

Those eyes belonged to the man that had killed my best friend. I wasn't sure how I knew this, but I knew it was a fact. I'd have staked my life on it. Filled with rage, I threw the covers off of me and got up, my head throbbing. I ignored the pain and turned on my computer. The CPU hummed to life.

In all the excitement over finding a way to bring Jesse back, I'd forgotten my best friend. Some friend I was. Guilt flooded through me and mixed with the rage. Suddenly, all I could think about was getting revenge for Cee Cee.

When the computer had turned on, I opened a new window and went to Google. I wasn't sure what to search. I'd just come to the computer on a whim. I tried searching "red-eyed man," but all I got were articles about people with pink eye. I sighed. This wasn't helping.

I decided to check my email as long as I was already on the Internet. There was only one message in my inbox. I clicked on it, expecting a long letter from my roommate in New York, who I'd left with nothing but a note. She'd want an explanation. But instead, there was a short message, and it was unsigned.

_Suze,_

_Long time no see. Meet me at the Sea Mist Café at midnight. Be there or I'll kill the girl like I killed her mother._

Attached to the message was a picture of Cee Cee's daughter. My heart leapt into my throat. Allie.

"Susannah Simon," came an angry voice from behind me. "I thought I told you to stay in bed."

I ignored him and reread the note for about the tenth time. It hadn't changed.

"Susannah…?" The voice was closer now, right next to my ear. It was silent for a second as Jesse's eyes scanned the note. And then his arms wrapped around me. "Oh, Susannah…" he whispered into my ear, trying to calm me. My body was trembling violently. "It's going to be alright. I promise."

I didn't know what to feel. So many emotions rushed through me. Hate for the man who had sent me this email and killed my best friend, anger at myself for letting it happen, terror for Allie, and lastly I felt a rush of responsibility. He'd only killed Cee Cee to get to me. Why else would he want to meet me?

Jesse seemed to sense the gears in my brain working because he said, "Oh, no, Susannah. You are not meeting this guy." He sounded firm.

"Jesse, I have to. He's got Allie."

"Have you called Adam? It could be a bluff." He sounded hopeful, but I knew without a doubt that it wasn't a bluff. Whoever had sent this was too careful to lie bout something I could check with a simple phone call.

"And if it isn't? Will you let me go if Allie really is missing?" I asked, though it didn't matter if he _let_ me go. I was going either way.

"Yes," Jesse said after a moment of hesitation. "Just call first."

I picked up the phone and dialed Adam's number. He picked up on the first ring. "Hello?" He sounded anxious.

"Adam, it's Suze."

"Suze!" he sounded relieved. "Suze, you have to help me. Someone broke into the house." He was hysterical now, his breaths quick and uneven.

"Adam, calm down. Is Allie okay?"

There was a deep intake of breath on the other end, Adam trying to calm himself enough to answer my question. "She's gone."

I tried to stay calm for Adam, though inside I was just as scared as he was. "Adam, what did the man look like? Did you see him?" I was speaking quickly now, and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. "What did the man who took Allie look like?" I repeated calmly.

"It was dark," he said. "I couldn't see anything. He left a note though." There was a shuffling sound on the other end as Adam found the note. "'She'll be fine if your friend cooperates,' it said. But I don't know who he means."

I let the silence drag between us for a moment before answering. "She'll be fine, Adam. I'll have her back by tomorrow morning."

He started to say something, but I hung up the phone. I couldn't answer his questions, couldn't tell him that the reason he couldn't see the man was because he was a ghost.

I looked at Jesse meaningfully. "Midnight," I said.

"Midnight," he repeated.

I looked at the clock on my wall. 3:43. Midnight was a long way away.

I pressed the heals of my hands to the side of my head, trying to stop the throbbing pain in my head. The Advil still hadn't kicked in. I felt Jesse's gaze and tried to disguise the gesture by sweeping my hands through my hair and putting it behind my ears. He didn't buy it.

"And until midnight, Susannah, you're going to stay in that bed."

I sighed, caving easily this time. I didn't have the strength to argue, and besides, I had more important things to worry about.

I stood up, and Jesse looked at me disapprovingly again.

"What? You told me to go to the bed," I pointed out.

Strong arms swept my legs out from under me and carried me to the bed. "Jesseeee!!" I whined. "Put me down!" My legs thrashed as he carried me the few feet to my bed.

"Humor me, Susannah."

I groaned but stopped thrashing and let him carry me. Besides, it felt nice being in his arms again.

He set me gently on the bed and put a tray on my lap. A bowl of soup rested on the tray, and I realized that I was starving. I gulped the soup down hungrily, though it was getting cold, and set the empty bowl on my floor.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do all day?" I asked Jesse. "You expect me to lie in this bed, bored half to death?" It was a lie. I could never be bored with Jesse so close by, but I couldn't tell him that.

He seemed to think for a minute. "Well, what do you want to do?" he finally asked.

I thought about that. What did I want to do? Well, there were a lot of things that came to mind. I wanted to tell him I was sorry and tell him how much I loved him. I wanted him to take me into his arms and kiss me. I wanted…Well, it didn't matter what I wanted.

"TV?" I suggested.

"I could carry you downstairs to the couch," he offered.

"I can manage, Jesse. Honestly, you act like I'm going to die if I sit upright."

I flung my legs over the bed and got up slowly, hoping the blood would not rush to my head again. I stood up and walked from the room before Jesse could protest.

He followed me closely down the stairs, as if he were afraid I'd lose my balance and go tumbling down them if he wasn't there to catch me.

I made it to the couch without falling over, though I felt lightheaded and faint. Stubborn, I tried not to let Jesse know what I was feeling. Why did he always have to be right?

I lay down on the couch and hit the power button on the remote. I flipped channels until I found something that looked promising. It was an old romantic movie, something I normally would have passed up, saying something about how it could never relate to real life, but now it was just what I was in the mood for.

Jesse sat on the couch at my feet, and his proximity was all I could think about for a moment. By the time I remembered the movie, I'd missed the introduction. I soon caught up though. It was easy enough to follow. This girl's fiancé left her to work in Chicago, but a few years later he came back, after his business went under. He discovered that he still had feelings for the girl, even though it had been years since he'd left.

This story line sounded vaguely familiar…

The ending was, of course, a happy one. The girl realized she loved him, too, and they kissed and made up. They got married a few months later. Cheesy. Why couldn't it be that easy in real life?

The end credits came on, and I shut the TV off. Only six and a half more hours until midnight. I groaned.

"Do you need another pain-killer?" Jesse asked. I jumped, forgetting that he was there.

"I'm fine," I lied. Jesse looked skeptical, so I changed the subject. "So how am I going to sneak out tonight?" I asked. "Mom and Andy are sure to keep a close watch. I can't believe I'm grounded."

"And you didn't even get what you broke in for," Jesse said. "You should have just told me." He sounded angry now. There didn't seem to be a safe topic to discuss with him at the moment.

"Nope," I agreed. "Well, I did get a picture of the page I needed. But Paul smashed the phone. I've got to remember to give it to David when he gets home. Maybe he can fix it," I rambled, as I tend to do when I'm nervous. Plus, maybe if I rambled enough Jesse would forget what we were talking about. Actually, I had forgotten all about the phone until that moment. Maybe this headache was messing with my memory.

I leaned back into the couch and closed my eyes, exhausted.

"Maybe you should get some sleep before we have to go," Jesse suggested. "This time let me carry you, please. You looked like you were going to fall over on your way down here."

I laughed. So he had noticed. "Yes, Doctor Jesse." He scooped me up into his arms again. I was half asleep when I noticed something. "You said 'we.'"

"Hm?"

"You said 'we' were going," I persisted, though sleep threatened to envelop me.

"Yes." He seemed confused. "Did you think I would let you go alone to meet a murderer, Susannah?"

"Well…no," I admitted.

"Of course not," he said matter-of-factly, obviously insulted that I would even think such a thing. "Now just rest. You don't have to worry about that yet."

"Mm," I acknowledged, already drifting off to sleep again.

"Sweet dreams, _querida_," said a far-off voice. I wasn't even sure if it was real or in my dreams.

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**Hope you liked this extra long chapter. Five more reviews please! I'm going to try to write a chapter for _Another_ before I update this story again, so it may be a few days or so. Then again, I'm disinclined to spend the time writing for _Another_ when my last two updates have only gotten 3 reviews...So I'll see how I feel later. But most likely it'll be a couple of days before the next update. FIVE REVIEWS PLEASE!!!**


	12. The Sea Mist Cafe

**A/N: Finally another update. Sorry it took so long, but I haven't been able to get on the computer all week. My dad upgraded the memory, so now it can fit all my brother's computer games. Needless to say, he's been hogging the computer even more than I usually do. Anyway, I finally finished it. Hope you like it. D**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**Mentions: Thanks to everyone who reviewed my last chapter!!!! I didn't have time to PM all of you (thank my brother...), but I want you to know I really appreciate your reviews!**

**And without further ado, I present to you, chapter 12.**

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_A Second Chance_

Chapter 12: The Sea Mist Café

The light evening breeze lifted a tendril of mousy-brown hair into my face. I brushed it aside so I could focus better on the empty building in front of me.

No light shone from inside except for a neon sign lit up in the window. _Closed_, it proclaimed, the ancient lights blinking on and off at uneven intervals, as if the effort to remain lit was too much for the old sign.

In its sparse light, I could just make out a chalkboard announcing the special of the day—stuffed flounder. But I wasn't here to eat. My attention instead focused on the only other thing illuminated by the _Closed_ sign—the door. In contrast to the sign's message, the door stood wide open, as if inviting me to come in.

I walked a few steps toward it, my breathing heavy. _Sea Mist Café_ was written in bold letters on the door.

From the outside, the restaurant seemed completely ordinary…if you can call a restaurant with valet parking ordinary. I'd certainly never been to one unless you count that time I came to this restaurant a few years ago. But I hadn't come to eat then, either. I'd been running from Paul.

Now, however, I was running _towards_ something much, much worse.

"Susannah," Jesse whispered in my ear, startling me.

"What are you doing?" I hissed back, annoyed that he'd followed me. "I told you not to come."

Jesse frowned, his face illuminated by the spectral glow he always gave off. "Susannah, do you really think I'd let you run off to meet a murderer alone?"

I hadn't thought that for a moment, but I didn't bother to answer him. I turned by back to him, focusing again on the open door. "He's here," I said with certainty.

Jesse touched the small of my back, gently pushing me in the direction of the door. "It's midnight," he whispered, and it sent chills up my spine—and not just because he was touching me.

I walked inside, and even though I'd known it would be dark inside the restaurant, I was surprised to find myself in such a complete blackness. I held my hand up in front of my face, but I couldn't see it in the dark.

My hand groped alone the walls, searching in vain for a light switch.

And then I saw them.

Two blood-red eyes stared out at me from the darkness.

I jammed my eyes shut, hoping that those familiar red eyes were only my mind remembering the dream, playing tricks on me. When I opened my eyes, they would be gone.

They weren't.

When I opened my eyes again, the glowing red orbs were back, closer now, only about ten feet away.

A hand reached out and touched my shoulder, and I nearly screamed. But it was just Jesse, and I knew, even though I couldn't see him, that he could tell something was wrong. He shifted me behind him effortlessly, taking up a protective stance in front of me.

The only sound was my ragged breathing as the red eyes began to get closer. Jesse's soft blue glow soon illuminated the killer's face, and I gasped.

His nose was crooked and badly scarred, and his face was completely white, a stark contrast to the long black cloak he wore. A shock of jet-black hair stood straight up on his head, almost as if he'd been electrocuted and the static electricity was keeping it up. A matching pencil-thin mustache and goatee adorned his face. But none of these things were as spine-chilling as those red eyes, still focused on mine.

Despite these strange, unnatural features, I recognized the man standing in front of me. I knew I'd seen him before, but I just couldn't put my finger on where.

He took another menacing step toward me, and the action sparked an image from my past. I pictured a man with a dark mustache and goatee, better kept than this man's, though clearly the same. His dark hair peeked out from underneath a black cowboy hat.

I opened my eyes wide, comparing this man to the man from my memory. Though this man's features were unkempt and scraggly compared to my former memory, it was definitely the same guy.

"Diego," I said in shock. Jesse, still in a defensive position in front of me, stiffened in recognition.

"Mediator," Diego said in disgust. "We meet again." He stood up straight, trying to see over Jesse's shoulder, which partially blocked me from view.

I stepped out of his protective shadow, completely unafraid. Anger surged through me as I faced the man who had killed the two most important people in my life. Granted, he'd killed Jesse way before I was born, but still.

I was pissed.

Jesse shifted his position again, trying to create a human wall between me and Diego, but I sidestepped him. "Susannah," he whispered disapprovingly. "Get behind me."

"You know," I said cockily to Diego, completely ignoring Jesse, "I'm pretty sure I already took care of you."

Diego smirked. "The exorcism," he agreed. "You know, _Susannah_," he added, clearly mocking me, "you have a lot to learn about the art of mediating. I myself was an excellent mediator back in my day…" He trailed off, lost somewhere down Memory Lane.

"_You _were a mediator?" I echoed in disbelief. I turned to Jesse in confusion, wondering why he'd never told me. He shrugged, reaching for my arm so he could tug me back behind him. I yanked it away.

"What are you doing here, Diego?" Jesse asked, his voice full of malice.

"Come now, Hector," Diego said calmly. "Is that any way to talk to family?"

Jesse growled, a low rumbling sound coming from somewhere in his throat. "You're no family of mine." Diego only smirked, and this seemed to annoy Jesse further. "Say, where is my lovely cousin anyway?" he asked sarcastically.

Diego's smile vanished quickly. He pointed at me. "_She_ killed her," he accused.

"Dude, she was already dead long before I touched her," I reminded him coldly.

He glared at me and took a step forward. It happened so fast that at first I didn't understand it. One moment Diego was lunging toward me, the next he was sprawled on the floor, clutching his broken nose, his hands stained with his own blood.

I looked up at Jesse, confused. He was holding his hand in pain, wincing. I looked from him to Diego, the truth finally clicking in my mind. Jesse had punched Diego in the nose. And he said violence never solved anything.

I took advantage of Diego's temporary—ghosts healed abnormally quickly—disadvantage. I kicked him in the ribs, hard. He grunted in pain. "You killed Cee Cee," I accused.

I wasn't expecting his reaction when he began to laugh. "Yes," he confirmed, chuckling maniacally. "And it was so easy."

I kicked him again, hard and heard the satisfying snap of a few ribs cracking under the blow. Diego screamed in pain, and suddenly everything in the room started shaking. A clipboard the waiters used to take orders came flying forward, missing my head by an inch.

I acted instinctively, pulling a pocket-sized Bible from my jacket pocket. I flipped it open, standing near Jesse for light and began to read.

An exorcism won't work, Jesse said, leaping toward Diego to keep him from hurtling a table at me. The table fell to the ground with a loud crash, and I dropped the Bible.

I bent down to find it, hoping that Jesse was wrong and an exorcism would work. There was another problem with that theory though. I didn't have the equipment. In order to perform an exorcism, I needed ingredients: pigs' blood, candles, and a few other necessities. As I groped around on the floor, trying to find the book, I remembered something else from my dream.

There had been a heavy swirling fog covering the ground. It had been so familiar, but at the time I couldn't place it. Now I knew that I had been in Shadowland. Was that some sort of clue? Did I have to shift Diego to Shadowland?

But last time, he'd just gotten out. I wondered how.

Jesse and Diego were wrestling on the floor, each trying to knock the other unconscious. My heart swelled with worry and admiration for Jesse. He was risking his life—well, you know what I mean—to save me, but he was clearly losing.

A second later, Diego managed to throw Jesse off of him, sending him flying into the opposite wall. He landed on the ground with a soft thud and was unconscious. I knew he was in no real danger, being dead and all, but a fresh wave of panic enveloped me.

Diego was getting up now. He strolled casually toward me, drawing out the suspense. "How did you get out?" I asked him, my voice steadier than I'd expected. "You're not supposed to be here."

He chuckled, enjoying toying with me. I knew he wanted to kill me for exorcising his dear Maria, but death seemed not to be an appropriate form of revenge. First, he wanted to torture me.

"Why should I tell you?" he mused, still strolling slowly toward me.

"What could it hurt?" I pointed out.

"True." He considered for a moment. "Oh, alright," he finally conceded. "I traded my soul."

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused. How could you trade your soul? Wasn't a soul all he had left? I mean, if he traded his soul, he shouldn't be able to be here right now.

"I traded my soul to Him," he clarified, "in return for a few months' time in the realm of the living."

"Him?"

"You would call Him the Devil."

My face contorted in disgust. "You sold your soul to the Devil?"

Diego grinned. "He's a reasonable guy," he said. "He said he'd be willing to let me buy it back."

He paused here, and I waited for him to go on. He didn't. "For what?" I prompted.

"Another soul," he was right in front of me now. I couldn't possibly have much longer. "But not just any soul. He has a specific one in mind, one even greater in value than my own." He seem disgusted by the thought of someone else's soul being more valuable than his own.

"Whose soul?" I asked, stalling for time.

Diego smirked. "Yours." He grabbed me by the throat, and I closed my eyes and shifted.

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**Please, please review!! I swear I will update as soon as I can. Hopefully much faster than this update came. But I need 5 reviews first please. D**

**Yesterday, my friend mcobsessed and I wrote a one-shot you might enjoy. It's a Mediator/Grey's Anatomy crossover. I found it hilarious. We were both cracking up writing it. So anyway, please read it. It is the definition of randomness, but we really did work hard on it. Comments appreciated. D**

**Love,**

**Maddie**

**P.S. Sorry for the cliffhanger. I wasn't planning on stopping it so shortly, but I liked the suspense. Next chapter will be longer and hopefully more explanatory. Comment please!**


	13. The Triple D's

**A/N: I know it's been like _forever_ since I updated. And I'm very sorry for the delay. But school has started back up, and I hardly have any time to write. Especially since with school comes the tennis season...But you don't want to hear about that, so lets get on to the story!!**_

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_A Second Chance_

Chapter 13: The Triple D's

Grey mist swirled around my ankles. I took a step forward and felt like I was walking on a cloud, nothing underfoot to support my weight. My eyes darted frantically around, searching for those horrible red eyes. He must be hidden somewhere in this slowly churning mist, waiting to pounce. Waiting to kill me. My eyes opened wider, as if that would help to take in more of my surroundings. But I didn't see anything unusual. Well, nothing aside from the thick fog.

Gradually my breathing began to return to its normal rate as I realized that Diego, for whatever reason, had not been transported here with me. Usually when someone was touching me and I shifted, they were transported, too. But no humorless red eyes glared at me from the darkness.

Now when I looked around it was just to inspect my surroundings—a big improvement from searching for someone that wanted to kill me. There wasn't much to see. Just darkness mostly. And that gently swirling grey fog that seemed to surround me on all sides.

I shivered, but not from the cold. I hated this place. It terrified me to tell the truth. Once I had almost died in here…As a mediator, I faced death a lot, including my own. So I wasn't exactly scared of dying. It's just…well, it's hard to understand unless you've stared your own death in the eyes…the glowing red, evil eyes.

Anyway, almost dying in a place can certainly leave an impression in a person's mind. So I wasn't exactly thrilled to be back here now.

My fortunes hadn't improved much since the last time. I was still on someone's hit-list. There seemed to always be someone out there who wanted me dead. How many people could possibly want to kill me??? What have I ever done to deserve this? Sure, I've committed a few federal crimes, but only to help out a ghost. Nothing deserving of the death penalty. So why was I always on someone's bad side, and would it ever end?

Speaking of wanting to kill me, where _was_ Diego? Even if he hadn't been shifted here with me, he had to have known that I had come to Shadowland. If he really was a mediator in life—and somehow I have no doubt that he had been—he should still be able to shift back and forth between the realm of the living and this eerie in-between place.

So where was he?

I held my hands out in front of me and pushed back a curtain of fog. This, of course, did nothing but reveal more fog, though. I sighed. I really hated this place.

I turned around to take one last look around before shifting back to the Sea Mist Café. There was no point in staying here alone, and there was no telling what tortures Diego could be putting Jesse through at this moment.

And that's when I saw them.

Glowing red eyes peered through the mist. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that they were focused on me.

The eyes began to come closer, and I noticed something wrong about them. These weren't the same eyes that I had seen a while ago as Diego tried to kill me. They weren't the eyes that haunted my dreams. These eyes were darker, a more blood-red than Diego's had been. Somehow, they seemed to hold much more evil within them.

I blinked and they were gone. I shook my head in disbelief, trying to clear it. It must have just been my overactive imagination. There was nothing there.

Now I had to get back to Jesse.

I closed my eyes and pictured the Sea Mist Café. And then I shifted. But the usual whooshing sensation I felt whenever I shifted—as if there were suddenly a strong breeze—was absent.

When I opened my eyes, fog still surrounded me on all sides. I was still in Shadowland. I tried to shift again, but it was no use.

It didn't make any sense. Why couldn't I shift? I'd never had any problems with it before. I looked at my watch, suddenly worried. It was 1:30 in the morning. If I couldn't shift back to my body by 2:00, there would be no returning. And I wasn't even counting the time I'd already spent up here. There was no telling how long I had left.

I had to hurry.

I ran through the fog, my feet not making a sound as they struck the ground—or rather the fog, since I could feel no ground beneath me.

It made no sense to run deeper into Shadowland. There was nothing to run to except more fog. But the rational part of my mind had apparently been left behind.

I ran until I was out of breath. I stopped, bending down to rest my hands on my knees, gasping for air.

A light hand touched my shoulder and I jumped, startled.

"Welcome to—Oh, you again." Any hope the man's voice had held when he'd started this statement had dwindled to disappointment at the end as he recognized me. I recognized the Gatekeeper I'd met in a previous unfortunate encounter with this place.

"Gatekeeper!" I yelled, embarrassed that I didn't know his name. I was just so glad to finally find someone in this otherwise empty place.

"Yes?" he said, confused. "Can I help you?"

I don't know. Can you? I hoped he could. "You have to help me," I said quickly, practically yelling at the poor man. "I—I can't get out of here and I need to get back to my body. There's this guy looking for me and—and I don't want to die!!" I babbled.

"Whoa there," the Gatekeeper said, placing a supporting hand on my shoulder. "Now, calm down. Take a deep breath and tell me again. What happened?" It was obvious he hadn't understood a word of what I'd said before. I did tend to talk quickly when I was nervous or scared.

I took a deep breath as he'd suggested before delving into my tale. I told him how Diego was trying to kill me and how I'd shifted here and for some reason he hadn't come after me. Then I explained about not being able to shift back to my body, leaving out only the pair of eyes I'd imagined. He didn't need any more reason to think I was crazy.

The Gatekeeper listened intently until I finished my story. This was probably the first interaction he'd had with anyone in a while. Not many ghosts came through here. Just the ones who were forced to. And mediators tended to stray away from it, too. This place was beyond creepy.

The Gatekeeper didn't say anything for a minute, and I started to get scared again. Was there no hope for me? He was just trying to figure out how to tell me that I was going to die here.

"What do I do?" I yelled in desperation, on the edge of hysterics. I was suddenly freaking out. Usually I'm not very prone to freak-outs, but it had been a long night. I had met the man who'd killed not only my best friend but also my boyfriend—okay, ex-boyfriend technically (if he ever really was my boyfriend in the first place…), but that's another issue completely—nearly gotten killed by the same man, and now I was going to die here in this place that I hated more than any other place I'd ever been. And now that I was up here, Diego was free to do whatever he wanted back in the realm of the living. He could do whatever he wanted to my body—please let me still have all my limbs attached when I get out of here…if I get out of here—or worse, he could be torturing Jesse. Normally, Jesse had no problem taking care of himself, but Diego seemed to have gained an unnatural strength through his dealings with the Devil.

So it was understandable that I'd be freaking out. I only had—I looked at my watch—twenty-two minutes to live!

"Did you see anything unusual before you tried to shift?" the Gatekeeper asked suddenly.

"No—well, yes actually," I said, remembering the glowing red eyes. Selfconsciously, I told him what I'd seen, expecting him to think that I was completely insane.

But the expression on his face was not one of mockery or worry over my sanity. It was one that clearly believed everything I'd said. And it was definitely not a good sign.

"What?" I demanded, scared of his answer and at the same time annoyed that he wouldn't just give it to me already.

The Gatekeeper gulped. "It was…" he looked around anxiously, as if expecting the source of those red eyes to be watching us, "Him."

"Him?" I queried. "Him who?" Then I remembered Diego's use of the word. "The Devil!" I shouted in disbelief.

"Shh!" shouted a terrified Gatekeeper. "Do not say His name." He waited for a moment until he was satisfied that Satan wasn't coming after us. Meanwhile, the last few minutes of my life were ticking by. I began to get annoyed and was going to say something when he finally spoke again. "He's blocked your shifting abilities," he explained at last. "I don't know how he got in here. He shouldn't be able to. You need a soul to get in, and He doesn't have one…" he mused, rambling slightly.

"Actually," I remembered, "he does." Diego's soul. The Gatekeeper looked at me with wide eyes, understanding my unspoken assumption. I didn't like that stare, and I spoke again, unnerved by the silence. "What do you mean he blocked my shifting powers? I need to get out of here!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't undo it," the Gatekeeper said with finality. He didn't even really sound sorry. It was as if he wasn't even paying attention to me anymore, just worrying about _Him_.

"So there's no hope, then?" I demanded, furious. "I'm just going to die here?"

There was hesitation in the Gatekeeper's eyes.

"What?" I demanded, taking advantage of his indecision. I paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "Please tell me," I begged. "Please." I gave him my best sad puppy-dog smile.

"Well…" He considered it for a moment before finally making up his mind. "Okay," he said finally. "But it's very dangerous," he added as a warning.

I had to restrain myself from laughing aloud. _Everything_ I did was dangerous. Even just getting up in the morning was somehow a dangerous thing for me to do. I had just encountered the Devil, for God's sake! I laughed in the face of Danger.

I don't know what he'd been expecting. Perhaps for me to run away, screaming in terror?

When I didn't, he continued in a tone that clearly suggested _It's your funeral_. "Come with me."

I followed him through more—surprise—fog until we reached a long hallway of doors. That was definitely unexpected. So there was something other than fog in this place. We continued down the long hallway for a few minutes. It seemed like longer. We must have walked past a thousand doors before we finally stopped. I looked at my watch every few seconds. I only had fourteen more minutes.

When he finally did stop, I nearly ran into him, not expecting that we'd ever get wherever he had in mind. The Gatekeeper motioned to a row of doors. As I looked at them, I saw that my name was etched in gold at the top of each of the three doors in the row. _Susannah Simon_, curly gold letters proclaimed. I stared at them in awe, wondering why there were three doors with my name on them.

"These are your Doors of Doom or Destiny. Or, as we like to call them, triple D's," the Gatekeeper told me. "_One_ of them leads back to your body." He paused for emphasis before saying, "The other two…well, lets just say you don't want to pick the wrong door."

"What happens if I do pick the wrong one?" I couldn't resist asking, though I could tell he didn't want to answer.

He hesitated again before deciding that I knew so much already that there was no point in holding back. "Your soul is trapped there forever in whatever torture awaits on the other side," he explained. "I've seen anything from getting your liver eaten out every day…" he became lost in some memory before finishing his sentence, "to being surrounded by food that just makes you hungrier and hungrier, making you wish you could just starve to death, but, of course, you can't. Overall, it's just not a very pleasant experience." He winced. "I'm not supposed to be telling you this…"

"How do I choose?" I asked quickly, trying to distract him from his doubts. I had barely ten minutes left.

"Open the door," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "But don't go inside unless you're absolutely sure it's the right door." He hesitated, still doubting whether or not he should be telling me this. "Good luck." And then he disappeared.

I turned back to the doors, annoyed that he'd disappeared before he could even tell me what I was looking for. But I didn't have any time to waste being annoyed at the Gatekeeper, so I started at the only logical place to start: the beginning.

I threw open the first door in my haste, and a booming voice came from out of the darkness inside, startling me. I jumped back in shock as it asked, "What is the true meaning of life?"

I nearly laughed. Okay, cheesy much? That had to be the oldest question in the history of questions. And no one knew the answer! Well, at least I sort of knew what I was looking for…sort of.

The darkness inside the door slowly began to lift, and a scene formed before my eyes. I squinted through the doorway and moved closer to get a better look, making sure that I stayed just outside of the doorway. I didn't want to get careless and end up getting my liver eaten out every day of my existence.

Inside, I saw myself. I was dancing with a cute guy whom I didn't recognize at fist. He was wearing a tuxedo that looked wonderful next to my pretty green prom dress. Yes, this was definitely the Mission's prom. A slow song played in the background as the boy and I danced slowly around the dance floor. I was staring into my date's eyes lovingly, and as we turned in another slow circle, I could finally make out the boy's face. It was Paul Slater.

My heart skipped a beat, but I realized with a shock that it wasn't from dread but rather from—dare I say it?—love. I was in love with Paul Slater. And for some reason, it didn't feel at all wrong. Somehow I knew that I was supposed to loathe the guy, but at the moment, I couldn't remember why.

The scene before me was too normal to be my life. Well, normal except for the being in love with Paul part anyway. There were no glowing blue ghosts in the room to interfere with my happiness. And I was at prom. I hadn't been able to go to my prom because I'd been dealing with ghost-related problems. So this scene was definitely way too normal to be real.

The scene, I realized, was what my life would have been like if I'd been a normal girl, unable to talk to the dead. No ghosts, no shifting, no worries at all. I looked at the smile on alternate-me's face and realized that I was truly happy in this life. I couldn't remember the last time I'd smiled and yet here I was, smiling and laughing giddily.

Mesmerized by the scene before me, I began to take a step forward, through the door. I wanted to get closer, to become truly happy like the girl I saw within. But at the last moment, the Gatekeeper's words came back to me. "Don't go inside unless you're absolutely sure." I pulled back my foot at the last second from where it was hanging in midair, nearly inside the doorframe.

Outside the door again, reality returned to me. I couldn't believe I'd almost gone in. What about my life? What about Jesse? If I hadn't been born a mediator, we never would have met. And I could never love Paul! What had I been thinking?

This first door was obviously not the correct one. Sure, if I wasn't a mediator, I wouldn't have to deal with other people's problems as often. And that was definitely the appeal in this alternate life. But life wasn't about taking the easy road. I knew that.

I slammed the door shut in disgust. A quick glance at my watch informed me that I only had seven minutes left.

I tore open the second door. This time no booming voice came out of the door. There was just another scene inside waiting for me.

In this alternate life, I saw myself laughing. My hands surged with a power beyond belief. It appeared as though a ball of dark-colored light—if it was even possible for light to be a dark color—was emanating from my palms. I could feel its power surging through me. So I was still a mediator in this life. An all-powerful one by the looks of it.

A man appeared out of nowhere, his hands shackled together. His astral glow told me that he was no ordinary man, but a ghost. Other-me stared at him with disinterest. The ghost bowed before me, a loyal slave.

"Have you brought me what I asked for?" I asked the slave-ghost, my voice almost unrecognizable under the tremendous authority it held. I didn't get up, barely even sparing the man a glance. He was nothing to me. Nothing but a worthless slave.

He swallowed, his Adam's apple sliding up and then down in his throat. "N-no, Ma'am," he stuttered, frightened of my response. "But I can explain!" he added hastily. "I—"

The ghost never got to finish his sentence. The balls of light that had formerly been clenched in my hands were suddenly sent flying towards the ghost, hitting him square in the chest. There was a scream as he turned to dust before my eyes.

Alternate-me laughed evilly. "Muahahaha!"

The power felt so good, coursing through my veins, alighting every nerve of my being. I could do anything, be anything. No one could ever stop me. A quick snap of my fingers and whatever I wanted would be achieved. I was all-powerful.

But I wouldn't allow the power to suck me in. This definitely wasn't the right door. I stepped back out and closed it, almost as disgusted as I'd been at the scene in the first door.

Two doors down, one more to go. I opened the third Door of Doom or Destiny very slowly, almost afraid of what I'd find behind it. What if it was even worse than the other two had been? Maybe I'd missed something…

Another scene unfolded before me.

I was lying on the rooftop outside my window. Thousands of stars glittered above me as I breathed in the cool night air. It filled my lungs and I exhaled slowly, completely relaxed.

"Hello, _Querida_." His voice was smooth as he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling the skin there.

"Jesse!" I said happily, sitting up and throwing my arms around him.

I was distracted by the scene in front of me, wishing I could live it. I'd give anything. A voice in the back of my head—no, not _that_ kind of voice; I'm not going crazy!—reminded me that I didn't have time. I looked at my watch. It was less than a minute until 6:00!

Jesse was saying something, but I didn't hear what it was. I couldn't stay and watch the rest of the scene unfold. Now I may never understand the meaning of life. All I knew was that I had no other choice right now. My heart hammered in my chest as I through myself headfirst through the door, hoping that I wasn't too late.

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**A/N: OK, first of all, I want to know if anyone is confused. If you are still confused about something after this chapter (and I don't think I've been TOO cryptic about anything, but I could be wrong), then I want to know so that I can hopefully resolve that confusion in my next chapter.**

**Well, I guess that's it. PLEASE REVIEW!!! I've worked hard on this chapter, and I would really appreciate some feedback. Let me know what you like/dislike about it, or whatever else pops into your head. Five reviews will get you another chapter, as usual. :D**

**BTW, THANK YOU EVERYBODY THAT REVIEWED! I FINALLY REACHED MY GOAL OF 100 REVIEWS LAST CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU GUYS!**


	14. Hot Soup

**A/N: OMG I am sooooo sorry it took me so long to update. I've just been so busy with my junior year. So much homework, tons of tests, you know. Anyway, here's a really short chapter that I've actually had written for like two weeks...Sorry, guys.**

**Anyway, let me know how it is please.**

**D**

**Disclaimer: NOT MINE!!!!!!!**

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A Second Chance 

Chapter 14: Hot Soup

Everything was dark, and at first I thought that maybe I hadn't made it out in time. Was I in the afterlife? I hadn't imagined it to be this…dark. Dark and quiet. It was almost worse than being stuck in Shadowland. Here I felt removed from the world, as if there were no one around for miles and miles.

It felt as if a cotton ball was wedged into my ear, so when I finally did hear a noise, it was distant and I couldn't figure out what it was. My eyes, previously half-open, widened, hoping to discover something besides darkness.

As consciousness returned to me, I became aware of another presence. Strong arms encircled me, holding me tightly to a broad, muscular chest. I wasn't sure how long those arms had held me. They were squeezing me so tightly that I couldn't possibly have not felt them before.

I heard the noise again. It was quiet, but it sounded very close.

I was surprised to discover that the noise was more of a sniveling sound, as if someone were crying. But who could be crying? This was the afterlife. Everyone was supposed to be happy and care-free, weren't they?

Or maybe this wasn't the normal afterlife. I remembered the Gatekeeper telling me about the parallel universe I'd be stuck in if I happened to jump through the wrong door. Had I picked the wrong one? It hadn't seemed like it at the time, but maybe I was mistaken.

The arms were holding me too tightly. I could barely breath. I struggled slightly, trying to release my esophagus from the chokehold. There was a gasp and the arms recoiled completely, leaving me lying on the cold, hard floor.

"Susannah?" whispered a male voice. It sounded as if he'd been crying.

I groaned loudly as I turned onto my back. "Jesse?" I wondered. I couldn't see his face. My hands searched for him but couldn't quite reach.

"Yes, I'm here, _querida_," the same comforting voice whispered. His arms found me again and he lifted me into a sitting position and placed me on his lap. I allowed my head to relax on his chest and my eyes to close. I was exhausted.

Wait. If this was the afterlife then…

But Jesse…

No.

"Susannah, are you alright?" His voice sounded worried.

I realized I was shaking. Why was Jesse here? HERE?

Paul.

I was going to kill him!

No one exercises my would-be boyfriend and gets away with it!

I tried to voice these thoughts, but my body was weak and weary. "J—Jesse," I stuttered. "Where are we?" My voice sounded raspy and weak, as if I'd just woken up from a long sleep.

His hand brushed my hair back gently as he explained. "We're at the _Sea Mist Café_, Susannah. Do you remember why we came here?"

At first I couldn't remember. Did I have amnesia? Jesse seemed to think so. "Diego," I remembered suddenly. So this wasn't the afterlife. That must mean that I'd made it out in time. I wasn't dead.

I felt Jesse nod slowly and his cheek brushed against my hair. Suddenly my eyelids felt too heavy. I yawned widely and started to drift to sleep, my head still on Jesse's chest.

"Susannah." Jesse was shaking my shoulder, keeping me awake.

"Wha'?" I muttered unhappily, half-asleep.

"Susannah, you can't sleep now," he told me. "You might have a concussion."

"Ssso?" My speech was slurred from sleep.

"So, you're not supposed to let someone sleep if they have a concussion. They may never wake up again…" he trailed off, probably trying not to think about it. "Now come on." He pulled me up by the arm. "Let's go."

"Mmmm…" I mumbled, still drifting off into sleep. My eyes stayed shut even though I tried to lift the lids.

"Come on, _querida_," Jesse said, shaking me gently. But it did nothing to lessen the fatigue plaguing my muscles.

"Mmmmm!" I mumbled, slightly irritated now. I wanted to go to sleep. Somehow I had ended up on my feet, but they weren't moving. I would have fallen back down to the ground if it hadn't been for the support of Jesse's arm, wrapped around my waist. I leaned into his shoulder as a substitute for a pillow. He began to propel me forward, out the door and into a car. Could ghosts drive? I didn't see why not. I mean, if they can move objects with their minds, driving should be a piece of cake.

The car hummed to life and then the stereo was turned on. It blasted noisy music, forbidding me to slip off into dreamland. My eyes opened reluctantly but couldn't focus on anything in particular. Objects blurred past my vision as we drove home.

I must have eventually drifted off to sleep because the next thing I knew, I was sitting up in bed, kept upright by Jesse's strong embrace. I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there. A slight pressure on my forehead made me open my eyes. Then came Jesse's voice, so close, asking me if it hurt. When I denied it, even though it did hurt a little, he moved on to another spot.

"Does this—"

"OW!" The reaction was involuntary. I hadn't meant to alarm him.

"Sorry, _querida_."

"Mmkay."

After he'd poked and prodded me, he got off the bed and shined a light in my eye.

"Ahh," I protested. I tried very hard to be a good patient and keep my eyes open, even though they tried to close against the light.

When Jesse had finished his inspection, he gave me the diagnosis.

Headache.

I faked shock and he gave me a look of annoyance.

And then he finally let me sleep. I closed my tired eyes against the bright spots in my vision from where the light had been shone. Without changing or pulling down the sheets, I flopped down onto the soft comforter. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

* * *

When I woke up in the morning I was covered by my comforter. I pulled it closer to my body. It was freezing. Jesse must have tucked me in last night. 

My heart thudded with joy. I rose out of bed and my gaze went immediately to my window seat. Sure enough, Jesse sat there, reading a huge dusty old volume. "Good morning," he said when he saw me.

"Morning," I replied brightly.

And then my heart sank as memories of the previous night came back to me. Something wasn't right. Where had Diego gone? He hadn't been there when I'd gotten back from Shadowland.

"Jesse," I asked worriedly, "what happened to Diego? Last night after…" I trailed off.

Jesse's expression was unreadable as he sat down on the bed next to me. "Susannah…" he began and then stopped. I looked up into his face in confusion and saw that he looked sad. I reached up to stroke his cheek comfortingly. "You have to understand, Susannah," he began again. "When you shifted to Shadowland, your body was still there. We thought you'd died." He paused as if he didn't trust himself to go on.

"We?" I said, noticing the use of the plural. He'd thought I was dead. "Jesse, I'm so sorry!" Now I felt bad for causing him agony. I remembered the sobbing I'd heard after I'd come back from Shadowland. It had been Jesse, crying over what he thought was my dead body.

I wrapped my arms around the man in front of me, hugging him tightly. He hugged me back with just as much force.

We sat there like that for a long time, our arms around each other. I breathed in his scent, remembering the old days when I'd been able to do this on a regular basis. Those days seemed so far away now.

We broke apart when we heard heavy footsteps. Someone was coming this way. My mom probably, worrying about me. I looked at the clock. It was 2:00 in the afternoon.

"Suze," said my mother when she walked into the room. Jesse dematerialized to give me some privacy. "You're up."

"Yeah…" I said, wondering what else could be said in a response to such an obvious statement.

"I tried to wake you earlier," she explained. "But you were dead asleep."

I cringed at the word dead. "Sorry, Mom. I didn't sleep well last night."

It wasn't true, of course. As soon as Jesse had let me, I'd fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep. My dreams weren't haunted by piercing red eyes as they had been so often lately.

"Oh. Well, I made soup for lunch if you're hungry." I told her I'd be right down and she left the room.

Groaning, I got out of bed. Every muscle in my body ached with the movement. Hot soup sounded really good.

I forgot about psycho killers, ex-boyfriends, dead best friends, and near death experiences. Soup was the only thing on my mind.

And for now, that was all I wanted.

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**Read and review please! I really will try to have the next chapter up quickly...if I get 5 reviews of course.**


	15. The Devil's Fury

**A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry it's been so long since my last update. This chapter is really short, but I'll try to make up for it in the next chapter. I have this week off from school, so I should be able to get some writing done. D**

**Disclaimer: Based on Meg Cabot's Mediator Series. I don't own the characters or subplots. But I'm sure you've figured that out by now.**

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A Second Chance

Chapter 15: The Devil's Fury

His shoes clacked loudly against the black marble floor of the reception area in the Devil's Palace. The room looked ordinary enough: four walls, lined with chairs as if for a waiting room. But the room was anything but ordinary. The walls seemed to stretch on forever, and the chairs had the appearance—it just couldn't be true, could it?—of being made out of human bone. Many of the chairs were occupied by disgruntled-looking ghosts.

A messenger made Diego's presence known to the master of the palace. Diego was led down a dark hallway until he arrived at a large blood-red door that looked more like the door to a vault than to someone's private office. He raised his hand to the large golden knocker, which featured a three-headed dog, but before he could knock, a voice sounded from within. "Enter."

The voice sent chills down Diego's spine, but he obeyed. Remembering why he was there, he smirked, gaining his confidence once again. He stepped into the room, the hope for a reward heavy on his mind.

He didn't dare show his arrogance, though. Diego bent into a hasty bow, addressing the man—_if you can call the Devil a man_, Diego thought humorlessly—before him as "Master."

The Devil didn't bother to look up from the large book that lay open on His desk. "Yes?" he asked rather rudely. This annoyed Diego, who was not used to being treated with disrespect. But he did his best to suppress his hostile emotions. It was, after all, the Devil himself he was speaking to.

The confidence Diego had entered with left him immediately as he surveyed his Master's office. The first thing he noticed was the boiling heat of the room. There were lava pits scattered throughout the office. They occasionally shot up a jet of boiling hot lava. _Cheaper than a heater I suppose_, Diego thought.

What he noticed next were the strange instruments hanging from hooks on the endless black marble walls. They appeared to be instruments of torture—most were covered in some sort of spikes—and Diego hoped he'd never find out what exactly they were used for.

But he'd come with good news. His Master would be proud. "I've done as you asked of me," Diego reported with pride. "The soul of Susannah Simon is yours."

The Devil looked up from the book He had been immersed in, no longer treating his visitor with disinterest. Was this man telling the truth? He hadn't felt the release of such a pure, powerful soul into the afterlife. There was only one way to find out for sure.

"Cyrus," He said to a man near the door, the same man who Diego had followed into the room.

"Yes, Master?"

"I need you to stay here," the Devil instructed, "with our friend. I will be back shortly." Then he turned his attention to Diego and spoke the rest of his sentence to him, "To reward or punish him as needed." Diego gulped. "If you're lying," He said, an undercurrent of rage in his voice, "you _will_ be punished." Diego's eyes darted frantically to a particularly hostile-looking piece of equipment hanging from the hook nearest him.

It was nearly an hour later that the Devil returned, having searched the world over for the soul he most desired. He so looked forward to corrupting the young girl's innocence.

But where was Susannah Simon's soul?

Finally, the Devil found her. She was in the one place he had no power. Shadowland.

But something was wrong. The soul before him was not what he'd been expecting. It was very much alive.

Enraged, He transported back to His Palace. He would not waste the torture he had planned for tonight. He would instead direct his rage toward the one who had led Him astray, the one who dared to stand there and lie to His face.

"Diego," He growled into the man's face, reaching for the torture device nearest Him.

It wasn't long before the man was on his knees begging for another chance, swearing his loyalty.

Forgiveness was not one of the Devil's primary traits, however, and he did not like to show mercy. Mercy and forgiveness were for the weak.

So it was not for these reasons that the Devil halted his assault on the man before him. He had a plan for Diego.

Of course, he had already proven his incompetence, so this time, the Devil Himself would have to get involved.

A plan was already formulating in His head.

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**5 reviews please! I'm working on the next chapter now, so hopefully it'll be up soon.**

**BTW, if this chapter confused anyone, feel free to leave questions in your reviews and I'll private message you. ) But hopefully all will be explained soon.**

** 3**

**Maddie**


	16. The Golden Stick

**A/N: Okay, apparently I lied. This chapter is also terribly short. Well, hopefully these short chapters add to the suspenseful mood or something...Haha. If the next chapter goes as planned, it should be long. I know I keep saying that...Anyway, enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Oh, I also stole the whole Golden Bough thing from Vergil's Aeneid, and though copyright laws didn't exist back then, I still cannot claim it as my own. Dang. And, of course, you know by now that this story is based off Meg Cabot's Mediator Series. All hail Meg Cabot. )**

**Mentions: I PMed all of you who signed in. Also got a few private messages myself. If anyone is confused, feel free to email me.**

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_A Second Chance _

Chapter 15: A Golden Stick

"Cee Cee? Cee, where are you?"

My shouts echoed loudly through the empty house, but there was no response. I tried calling Cee Cee through the mental connection I seemed to have with all ghosts, but it was no use.

Jesse materialized beside me, startling me. "She's not with Adam," he reported, his voice heavy with worry.

"Great," I said sarcastically. "There's a psychotic killer on the loose and my best friend is MIA." My breath was coming in short gasps and my eyes were frantically darting around the room. I was in full freak-out mode.

"Cee Cee!" I called in desperation, my voice cracking. Jesse's arms encircled me, but I broke out of his embrace and stormed out the door, intent on finding my best friend.

"Susannah," Jesse said, easily keeping pace with me. Darn ghosts. Why did they have to do that all the time? "Susannah, calm down."

I stopped so suddenly that Jesse ran right into me. "Calm down?" I questioned him, hysterical. "Cee Cee is _missing_, Jesse," I informed him. "Who knows what Diego is doing to her?!"

"Susannah, just stop and think a minute. If Diego has Cee Cee—and I do mean _if_—then he's only using her as bait to get to you."

I glared at him. "Thanks, Jesse," I said angrily. I didn't need to be reminded of the fact that I was a hazard to the safety of everyone around me.

Jesse continued as if he hadn't heard my sarcastic remark. "Last time, when you were looking for the person responsible, how did you find him?"

His words weren't making any sense. My head was spinning, my thoughts jumbled. And then it hit me.

"He e-mailed me." My voice was distant and I stood still, unable to move. "How did a ghost get my e-mail address?"

Jesse laughed. "Go check your e-mail."

I dashed back inside, raced up the stairs, and clicked on the monitor. Jesse, of course, was already there. The Internet browser took too long to load as my fingers tapped the desk impatiently.

Finally, I logged in.

1 NEW MESSAGE, the screen read. I clicked on it.

_Dear Mediator,_

_You should take better care of your friends. This is the second time so far that this one has come under my custody. Meet me at the place where all mephistophelean souls are taken._

The letter was unsigned and had no return address.

"Mefi—Mephistophelean?" I asked Jesse.

He seemed confused by the concept. "It means…devilish," he explained.

"He wants me to meet him in Hell?" I nearly shouted.

Jesse shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Still, this left us with a problem. "How does one get there?" I wondered aloud.

All I got in response was another shrug.

* * *

Trees surrounded me on all sides, and, though it was early afternoon, no light shone through the canopy of leaves above. I guess this is what you should expect when you're wandering through a forest. 

We were in a forest outside of Rome. Yes, as in Rome, Italy. I'd gotten on a plane this morning and flown halfway across the world on a whim. Well, maybe a little more than just a whim.

It was Jesse's idea really. He told me to get on a plane and fly across the world. You may be wondering why. Not a bad question really. Well, apparently, somewhere in this creepy woods is a yellow stick that will transport me to Hades. I'm not even kidding. Or, you know, it's _supposed_ to transport me to Hades. If you believe those ancient Roman legends. Well, it's more like an epic actually. The national epic of Rome thousands of years ago. But still, can you really trust these things?

"So how are we supposed to find a yellow stick in a huge forest?" I wondered allowed, slightly annoyed by the ridiculous task.

"Actually, it's the golden bough," Jesse corrected me. "And according to the Aeneid"—that was the name of the epic—"it should be right around here…somewhere."

"Right. And we're basing this theory off of some old myth made up by a crazy guy?"

"Vergil was not crazy, and it's not a myth…I hope."

"Well, that's reassuring."

Jesse sighed. "Lets just keep looking."

The forest was too quiet, too still. I would have thought that such a place would be teeming with wildlife. I hummed to myself as we searched, breaking the silence. I craned my neck back, searching the treetops for a glint of gold…

And walked smack into a tree.

"OW!!" My cry reverberated off the trees, spreading quickly to the whole forest.

Jesse was laughing. "I'm s—haha—I—hahaha—" He tried unsuccessfully to calm himself. "I'm sorry, Susannah," he finally said, but the corners of his lips stretched upward into a smile and he began laughing again.

I rubbed my arm where the bark had scratched it, wiping away the single drop of blood that had appeared there. "Ow," I repeated, looking angrily at the offending tree. I kicked the trunk—ha take _that_!

The tree shook from the blow and down came a golden twig.

Jesse picked it up in amazement. "How did you—?" He seemed lost for words. "It exists," he finally whispered.

Now it was my turn to laugh. "_This_," I said, taking the insignificant little twig from Jesse, "is the key to the Underworld?"

He tried to grab it back, but as soon as he touched it, we were blinded by a bright light.

And the portal to Hell opened right in front of us.

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**5 please! Oh, and I was really happy about how quickly my last five reviews came in. Thanks everyone!!!!**

**The next chapter might take a little bit longer, but I'll do my best to get it up soon.**


	17. Into the Underworld

**A/N: OK it's finally up!! Please don't kill me. I know I told several of you I'd have it up quickly, but I've just been SO busy. It was Spring Break this week, so I had a little time to work on it. =D 'Course I haven't actually done most of my homework, and I do have to go to school tomorrow...Well, I'll deal with that later. Anyway, I hope this chapter is worth the wait. I've got some (I think) pretty good ideas for this story. I actually know where it's going!! Believe me, when I started this story, I had no idea I was going to send Suze and Jesse into the Underworld. And I know that half-way through this story I kinda switched plots. Like at one point they were dealing w/ Cee Cee and then suddenly they were trying to bring Jesse back to life. I'm sorry I skipped around so much. I really should go back and fix it, but I won't. I will definitely get back to the whole save Jesse thing later, but for now, Cee Cee is the primary concern. And now I'm rambling. I'm just gonna let you read.**

**No****t gonna bother with mentions. I think I PMed everyone who reviewed the last chapter, if not I'm sorry! I'll definitely do some mentions next time! Please review!! I don't think I would have updated for a long time still if I hadn't been getting reviews. THANKS SO MUCH FOR STICKING W/ ME, GUYS!**

**Okay NOW I'm done. Enjoy.  
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A Second Chance A Second Chance

Chapter 17: Into the Underworld

At first everything was dark. A cool breeze made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, my spine tingling. The Underworld was a dreary place, but of course that was to be expected. I could hear the sound of running water not far off. Over the trickle of the unseen stream a much different noise could be heard. It was the sound of a woman, weeping. I imagined her to be a widow who had just lost her only son, and somehow I knew it to be true. Soon her sobs were joined by those of a man, somewhere farther downstream. I could barely hear them, but when I listened more carefully, the woes of a thousand others assaulted my sensitive ears. Sounds seemed to be magnified in this dreaded place.

Soon a light could be seen in the distance. It seemed to be coming slowly closer, and a part of me was glad to see one bright spot in this otherwise gloomy place. The other, more sensible part of me feared that whatever the source of that light, it was not something I wanted to be anywhere near. I took an involuntary step back and slammed into something cool and hard. A rock?

"Susannah," Jesse whispered, putting his arms on my sides to steady me. His voice sounded warm and comforting, a welcome contrast to the bleak atmosphere of this place. I had imagined that Hell would be warmer. A lot warmer. And where were all the fiery pits and demons?

"Jesse," I said softly. "Something's coming." Though the light was still too far off to illuminate my surroundings, I could sense Jesse's eyes focus on the orange glow in the distance. His hold on my side tightened protectively, and I couldn't help but think of all the disastrous dealings we'd been through in the past. No, they hadn't all turned out quite the way we'd hoped, but we'd survived. What made this any different? I felt safe in Jesse's arms, like nothing could ever happen to me. And so I looked to the flame coming ever nearer with new confidence. Whatever it was, we would handle it.

I squeezed Jesse's hand reassuringly and removed his arms from around my waist. I took a few steps forward to meet the holder of the light, trying hard to block the lamentations of all those lost souls from my ears.

A small ferryboat appeared and I finally set my eyes upon the source of the light. An aged boatman held a lantern up, lighting his way and revealing the waters below. The water was not clear and blue as one would expect water to be but rather murky and whitish. I had a bad feeling it was not water at all.

Finally the ferryboat came to the edge of the river, and I could now make out the features of the man holding the lantern. He was definitely not alive, but he also didn't give off the spectral blue glow of a ghost the way Jesse did—though as looked at Jesse, I realized that he didn't seem to be giving off any sort of light at all; it must just be an effect of this eerie place, for nothing at all seemed to reflect the light of the lantern. He was old, his longish hair grayed by the passage of time, and the expression on his face showed no hint of a happy past. His grey eyes focused on me quizzically.

"You are not dead," he said simply, his voice gravelly from disuse. It sounded like my stepbrother Dopey's voice after he'd just woken up from his winter hibernation. "You have no business here."

I found that I couldn't speak. I wasn't afraid exactly, but some of the confidence I'd felt earlier seemed to have dissipated when this strange man had arrived. He gave off the aura of someone who had seen tremendous suffering and simply didn't care anymore. He must have been human once, but now he had been reduced to a creature much lower than a ghost. The ferryman turned his attention to Jesse, and suddenly I realized that Jesse _was_ dead and this man was probably going to try to take him from me. I gasped.

"You are not worthy either," he griped, and I let out a deep breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. Without another word, he began to turn away.

"Wait," Jesse's voice rang in my ear. The ferryman turned slowly back to face us. Jesse dug into his pocket and pulled out two silver coins. "Here," he said, handing them to the man.

He was quiet a while, so long that I thought he'd somehow forgotten us. His eyes remained fixed to t he silver coins in Jesse's hand. "Very well," he said finally. "You may come, but she—" He quieted as two more silver coins fell into his hands. He looked at them eagerly and spoke without much hesitation. "Get in."

I looked at Jesse, puzzled. "Roman mythology," he explained as he helped me into the boat, "tells of a ferryman of the Underworld. His name is Charon, and his job is to ferry souls to their next life. But as payment he demands the silver that was placed over each eye of the body before burial. Those who were not properly buried would not be led to their next life."

I waited for Jesse to take a seat beside me in the boat, which was much too small and probably only meant for the ferryman and one other, before asking him where he'd gotten the silver pieces. He was quiet a moment, and I suddenly regretted the question. He had been murdered and his body hidden. The silver was not his. I wondered if I'd touched a sore spot and decided to change the subject quickly. "What is this water?"

The boatman, Charon, answered my question, though it had not been directed toward him. "Welcome to the Acheron River," he said, an evil smile playing across his lips. "It means River of Woe, and it's not made of water but rather the tears of the dead." He dipped his hand into the river, cupping a handful of what were apparently tears. I gasped as suddenly the sobbing of forlorn spirits intensified. I had all but blocked it from my mind until now. I gripped Jesse's hand in my own for further comfort. Suddenly I didn't feel at all brave. I wanted to go home.

The ferry ride seemed to last for ages before we finally reached the other side of the river and were instructed—rather rudely—to get out of the boat. I felt slightly better when my feet were planted firmly on the ground, though it was still cold and gloomy. "Will you be here when we return?" I asked, suddenly sure that the answer would not be a favorable one.

"Return?" the old man repeated, laughing. He turned away without even bothering to answer. His laughter echoed all around even after he was well out of sight. And now everything was dark again.

Jesse and I walked along in silence for another minute, and finally we saw another dim light. When we reached it, Jesse grabbed the torch and led the way until we saw a gate. It was huge, stretching far above us, farther than our meager light could reach. Out of nowhere, a large creature bounded into view, and I couldn't help but let out a startled shriek.

The monster had three ferocious-looking dog heads, all connected to one furry brown body. Each of its paws was as big as my car and way, way more powerful. One of the heads loomed over us, staring down with dark brown eyes and breathing warm air that ruffled my hair. I would have assumed him a giant, three-headed, somewhat mutated dog, but it didn't quite fit. He had a long, scaly tail, possibly the tail of a dragon.

I decided not to dwell on it and instead turned to Jesse. "Okay, I've had enough," I whispered. "Let's go home." I began to march quickly off, but Jesse caught me by the shoulders and wheeled me back around towards the colossal monster.

He walked slowly towards the great dog-dragon creature, being sure not to make any sudden movements. The monster watched him with all six humongous eyes, all the way to the gate. And then Jesse slipped through the bars easily. The creature didn't seem to care.

From the other side of the gate, Jesse beckoned to me. I gulped but followed his lead, inching slowly toward the gate, my eyes glued to the dog-like thing the whole time. I tripped when I was about half-way there, landing square on my butt in the soft soil, and the eyes, each the size of my fist, watched me curiously.

My heart thumping wildly, I scrambled to my feet and ran the rest of the way, slipping my body through the gate quickly.

The monster didn't move a muscle.

_Some guard dog-thing_, I thought to myself, wondering why it hadn't eaten us. It had certainly had the chance.

"That was Cerberus," Jesse whispered helpfully. "He's the guard dog of the Underworld."

"Not a very good guard dog," I said, aloud this time.

"Actually, he's probably the best. Cerberus guards the Adamantine Gate into Hades. Anyone can enter, but—"

"But no one can leave," I finished, catching on. "Well, that's just great. How are we supposed to get out of here after...?" I trailed off, unsure of what would happen next and unwilling to think about the possibilities.

Jesse shrugged, and I sensed the gesture more than I saw it, for the torch light had gone out. Funny, there was no breeze. Even when I'd run from the dog, it was as if there were no air moving past me at all.

We walked on through the gloom in silence for a long time, neither of us daring to speak of what would follow. So many thoughts were running through my head during the silence. The Underworld was a huge place. What if we couldn't find Cee Cee? How would we bargain with the Devil to free her soul? Why did he want to lure me here? What was he planning on doing to us? What if we were too late? Would we ever get out of here? Was it possible to die of dreariness? What obstacles would we have to face before we could find my best friend? Would we all make it out in one piece? ...Would we all even make it out?

Finally, I couldn't stand the silence any longer. Jesse seemed to know about this Underworld stuff. He had known how to get into Hades, where to find the golden bough that was the key to the Underworld, who that ferryman was and what he wanted, and how to get past that fearsome guard. Maybe he knew what awaited us next.

"Jesse," I said, my voice sounding especially loud in the silence of this empty place. I felt him turn his head toward me quietly and continued. "Do you know what's coming up? I mean, you've known about the—the golden bough," I stuttered, "and the ferry and the dog and...Well, I was just wondering if you knew what was coming next..."

He hesitated a moment, considering. "You know that show you're always watching, the one with the singers and those three judges?"

"American Idol?"

"Well, it's kind of like that. The Underworld has its own set of three judges, if Roman mythology is to be believed—and it's been right so far, so I have no reason to believe it would differ here. Their names are Rhadamanthus—he's the mean one—, Aecus—he's most like the woman judge on that show in that he usually agrees with one of the other judges and speaks often in difficult-to-figure-out riddles—, and Minos—he's the most normal of the three, though everything he touches turns to gold, oddly enough."

It was silent a moment while I digested this information. It was a strange analogy, comparing the judging system of the Underworld to a TV show. "So what exactly do they judge?" I finally asked.

"The Romans weren't specific about how they judged this, but they were the ones who decided whether you would spend eternity in the peaceful Elesian Fields or be sentenced to eternal damnation in Tartarus. But we need to get to Pluto's Palace, which should be somewhere between the two, so I'm not exactly sure how to get past them..."

"But I'm not dead," I pointed out. "What would they do with me?"

"That's it!" Jesse exclaimed. "Susannah, you're a genius!"

"I know," I said. "...Why am I a genius exactly?"

"Well, if you're not dead, then you can't be sent to either the Elesian Fields or Tartarus. The judges will _have_ to send you to Pluto's Palace!"

"And Pluto is...the Devil?"

"Yeah, Pluto is just his Latin name."

"Okay so they might send me to...Pluto. But what about you?"

"I—Hm...Good question. I think I'll let them decide where to send me. Pluto's Palace is between Tartarus and the Fields...I think if I just get judged, I might be able to meet you in the Palace. Especially if they have to lead you there. I might be able to follow them...Of course, it will only work if they send me to the Elesian Fields..."

"How could they not?" I interrupted. "You have got to be the most deserving soul in all eternity. They _have_ to send you to the happy place!"

He was silent a moment, possibly shocked. "Well...Thank you, Susannah, but I—"

"No buts. Let's go." I was feeling braver now that we had a solid plan. Of course, I had no idea what to do when I got to the Devil's Palace, but at least I knew what to do until then.

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**Please review! I know it's been forever since my last update, so I won't expect five reviews this time. I promise I'll get the next chapter up faster than this one. Only 3 more months of school!! Hope everyone's having a good Easter!**

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	18. Judges of American Idolthe Underworld

**A/N: Hey again, guys. Fast update this time!! I know it's really short, but it was meant to be a short chapter. The next one will be longer I think. The writing style is a little different in this one. I think it's because of the book I'm reading right now...The style sounds kind of similar. Anyway, it is third person point of view and only briefly mentions Suze and Jesse (sorry). **

**The descriptions of the judges are not according to Roman mythology (except for their names, which I know are a little strange) but were instead made up by my overactive imagination. And I tried to relate each one to an American Idol judge. I don't know if you guys watch that show. I love it personally.**

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_A Second Chance_

Chapter 18: The Judges of American Idol—I mean the Underworld

Three men sat 'round an old wood table, their ancient hands each resting in its owner's lap. All three looked like they hadn't seen sunlight in decades at least, probably even centuries. Their skin was so pale that they almost glowed in the darkness of the Underworld. But of course, some light is required even to glow, and the room in which they sat was pitch black. This wouldn't bother any of them, though, nor would it bother most ghosts, for they all had excellent vision. Some ghosts could even see just by their own spectral glow.

The first man—who would be farthest to the left of the observer if someone were to set eyes upon the strange party (and not many who did ever returned to tell the tale)—sported simple but stylish clothing, his head bare of all but a few remaining hairs, for he was centuries old. Several gold chains hung loosely on the old neck, each holding a different object as a charm—anything from a gold coin, to a golden apple with a large bite out of it, to the head of some small, unidentifiable animal encased in shiny—or it would have shined if any sunlight had been cast on it—yellow metal. This must be Minos, for certainly the strange objects dangling from his neck were memoirs of his past, encased in gold by the touch of his own hand.

The man seated directly to Minos' left—or the right of any observer—sported long, dark curls, their thickness and fullness a stark contrast to Minos' nearly bald head. His colorful clothes were also in contrast with the two men sitting nigh. This judge seemed untroubled as he began to separate his lush locks into several tight braids, an effect of his extreme boredom. The carefree nature of this particular man would lead anyone in the know to believe that he was Aecus, the judge of the Underworld most known for his playfulness and cryptic messages. Sometimes he gave excellent advice of his own, other times he simply agreed with the opinion stated before, often slightly watered-down to avoid any controversy. Aecus was not one to anger anyone but rather wanted to be accepted by all. Everything he said—and especially the negative things (apparently so as to disguise their meaning)—came out in the form of a riddle.

The final judge sat next to Aecus, looking extremely uninterested in the antics of his fellow judge. He looked quite cross indeed, as if nothing ever pleased him. To match his mood, his clothing was dark and grayish in color, a hue that intensified the gloominess of the man wearing it. This must, of course, be the final judge, Rhaddamanthus. He had always been the most truthful of the three men because he was not afraid to be blunt. If he hated your outfit, for example, he would come right out and say it rather than politely ignoring it or even lying like a more well-mannered person. But Rhaddamanthus, rather than being despised, was—for the most part—respected for his truthfulness and wisdom.

These three unique men were the judges of the Underworld, the men who determined the fate of each departed spirit, whether they would be rewarded for their righteousness in life or punished eternally for their sins.

Of course there was always disagreement among the three, but each judge's opinion was always considered. In order for a solution to be reached, two out of the three judges must agree upon it. In the case of a disagreement, this inevitably puts the final decision upon the final judge to break the tie. It was unnerving for the restless soul to stand there before them, not knowing whether they would be rewarded or punished for their past life, their fate resting in the hands of a single judge. There were no redoes, no repeals of the sentences imposed, no second chances. The three judges were the authority in deciding the future of those who had passed on.

It was to these three that Suze and Jesse would soon come.

And it was also to these three men that the Devil himself now appeared. He hardly ever bothered to interfere in the judging, not much caring which souls would be sent to eternal damnation or to a blissful retirement.

But now he would use his supreme power—for he was the ruler of Hades and could therefore surely control its inhabitants—to intervene in the affair. He knew that Rhaddamanthus would do as he pleased regardless of the Devil's pleas—not that He, a God, intended to do anything as lowly as begging—and that impressionable Aecus would likely mimic the opinion of the judge he most related to anyway. So it was to this final judge that the Devil turned.

"Minos," He whispered secretly in the judge's ear, his breath scorching the man's delicate skin, "I have a favor to ask of you."

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******I'll update when I get five reviews! So please, please, please review!! I'd really appreciate to hear your feedback, good or bad. Thanks so much for reading!**

******Mentions: I know I PMed all of you who reviewed my last chapter, but I'd just like to say thanks to 'Somebody' and MCFanofDolphins who are currently the only two to review the last chapter. ( That's alright though. It's my own fault for waiting so long to update. Anyway, this time I will require five reviews before updating!  
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	19. Final Judgment

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A/N: My God, it's been forever. It's been almost a year since the last time I updated. Anyway, I've gotten a few reviews lately and I'm amazed and very pleased that people are still reading this. I'm SOOOOOOOOOOO sorry it's taken me so long to update. Really I have no excuse. Thanks to all those who are still reading and waiting patiently. You guys are amazing.

**And without further ado, Chapter 19!**

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A Second Chance

Chapter 19: Final Judgment

SUZE'S P.O.V.

"Susannah Simon," a man sitting at an ancient stone table—kind of like the one in all the King Arthur stories, only it was not round but rather rectangular—said. The man wore mostly gray and was extremely bored with the proceedings if his glum frown and jaded tone were any indication.

"Rhadamanthus," Jesse whispered in my ear. His breath was warm and reassuring against my numb skin. Who knew the Underworld would be so cold? Whenever I thought about it—which, admittedly, was not very often at all—fiery pits and little red demons were forefront in my mind.

Rhadamanthus. Was that a name?

It didn't sound like a Spanish curse word to me—not that I'd ever taken Spanish because of course I had no way of knowing that I would soon fall in love with the ghost of a nineteenth-century Latino cowboy determined to haunt my new bedroom.

Anyway, Rhadamanthus—for that must indeed be his name—continued in an apathetic, drawling voice. "You have no place among the dead. Come back to us when your life's thread has run out."

My life's thread? Was that some odd ancient Greek saying?

Maybe it was like in that Disney movie Hercules where there are those three women who share one eyeball. The Fates. They were the ones that spun the thread of life and then cut it when someone's time was up. Now personally, I found it a little creepy to think that three old women with one eye would determine my future. Did nothing I did make a difference? I always wanted to be the engineer of my own future, but with the Fates that seemed unlikely.

Or maybe I'm just reading too much into this. Either way, I seem to be safe for the moment. Jesse had warned me that the judges of the Underworld could be brutal. They would either send me to the Elysian Fields to spend my afterlife pleasantly—unlikely—or doom me to eternal damnation in a place known as Tartarus—way more likely considering my past sins, which I'm now realizing must be a huge list when all written down together; I mean, I haven't killed anyone technically since I've only exorcised ghosts, which may actually be a very Christian act since said ghosts were hell-bent on murdering the living, but I have had my fallings-out with a few of my nun teachers, and surely it's a sin to disrespect one of God's chosen messengers, if you could even call them that.

I figured I was in no immediate danger since the judges hadn't even passed sentence on me. That is, until another judge—one who had a lot of dangling gold jewelry and a shiny bald head—proclaimed, "Send her to Pluto's Palace to await further sentencing."

Pluto's palace was my ultimate destination, so it should have thrilled me that I would be able to go there so quickly. However, the judges had now turned their attention on Jesse, and I realized with dread that Jesse was in fact dead. He would receive a sentence.

"Hector Jesse DeSilva," Rhadamanthus droned.

Then again, Jesse was...well, Jesse. He was a complete gentleman and would never harm a fly. There was no way they could send him to—

"Tartarus!" yelled the bald judge.

"What?!" I couldn't help but yell, completely shocked. There was no way Jesse would have to face eternal damnation. He had always been the picture of innocence and chivalry in life—not that I'd known him when he was alive—and in the afterlife. It had to be some sort of mistake.

Jesse put his hand on my shoulder firmly to discourage me from putting up a fight, and I realized that I had automatically taken a step forward, toward the table of judges. I stepped back and grabbed a hold of Jesse's warm hand—odd how it could be warm when there was no blood flowing through his body; it had never felt warm before, but then again the arctic ice caps were warm compared to the Underworld.

"Now let's not be so hasty, Minos," Rhadamanthus suggested, sounding less bored now that he was faced with a challenge. I could have hugged that hateful old judge right then, I was so glad he was sticking up for Jesse. "Let us look at the facts."

"He committed murder," Minos stated firmly. "And against a family member at that! It's Tartarus for sure, eternal damnation."

I was shocked. Murder? Jesse? No way. It had been the other way around. A family member had murdered him.

Apparently Jesse had the same idea. "Murder, Sir?" he asked, clearly as shocked as I was. I took comfort in the fact that it couldn't possibly be true. Jesse himself had just denied it, and Jesse didn't lie. Actually, he was completely incapable of lying, I knew. Even when he would tell me a little white lie, he would end up smiling and laughing and telling me the truth even before I challenged him. He was definitely telling the truth. Although, he hadn't exactly denied it yet…What am I thinking? Of _course_ Jesse didn't kill anybody!

"Not murder exactly, as the body was already dead," Minos admitted, "but a heinous offense none-the-less. Isn't it true, Hector, that you were involved in the exorcism of your own cousin and her husband?"

I gasped. "That's not true! I mean, yes, technically, it's true, but they were trying to kill us!"

"Diego will indeed receive his due for his part in the situation, and poor Maria wasn't even given the chance." Minos glared at Jesse, who hadn't made any move to stand up for himself.

"But that's not fair!" I yelled as Jesse shook his head slightly at me, silently pleading with me to stop. But I wouldn't. I couldn't just let him _take_ this ridiculous criticism.

"Indeed the situation seems to have called for such an action, Minos," Rhaddamanthus pointed out. "In cases of self-defense, the victim may—"

"No matter the situation, his actions are unforgivable. It's Tartarus for him, no doubt."

Rhaddamanthus closed his eyes and considered for a moment. "This man has always acted out of courtesy towards others and has saved this girl's life countless times. He has made some mistakes, of course, but only out of love, as all men are wont to do. I say he deserves a peaceful afterlife. The Elysian Fields."

The vote was one to one and my breath caught as the final judge studied Jesse. This was Aecus, the final judge, the man known to agree more often than not with Minos. My heart thudded painfully as I prayed that this would be the rare exception to the trend. How could anybody send Jesse to what was basically the Roman equivalent of Hell?

Aecus looked to Minos, who slowly shook his head. Aecus sighed loudly before finally speaking.

_The judgment for one who has been so chivalrous_

_But also at times too mischievous_

_Is complicated indeed,_

_But these words he should heed._

_If first you can answer me this_

_You may exist in bliss._

_Have you found through your experience and strife,_

_What, my dear, is the meaning of life?_

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**To all those who did not get a PM for their review, thank you so much for reviewing and next time I will be sure to thank you all individually. I love you guys!**

**Sorry if this chapter wasn't quite up to par. I'm not feeling well and in my hurry to get it up, I didn't even go back and read over it...hopefully it's okay. It definitely will not take me so long to get the next chapter up!!**

**Maddie**


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